


The consequences of falling

by TaleNeverTold



Category: Erkenci Kuş (TV)
Genre: AU after episode 30, F/M, not posting the rest of the characters not to spoil anything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2019-11-19 01:31:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 36,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18129188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaleNeverTold/pseuds/TaleNeverTold
Summary: Let's assume Can did leave for Balkans... and then came back. How much growing one needs to do to get to their happy ending?But then there is Emre also... And how much time does it take to deserve a perfect love?By the end of this I'm hoping they'll get the answers to these questions!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes for K.D.Lang's song.
> 
> The entire work is planned out by chapters and while inspiration may strike and I'll expand in the middle, I do know how it ends for everyone involved =)
> 
> Some chapters are mixed and some are for one or the other couple. Yes, I am going to fix Emre and Leyla too, I have a weakness for reformed bad boys...

\- Mister… Mister?

Can blinked and refocused his gaze on the lady in the uniform who was standing in front of him with poorly contained exasperation written all over her features. The lady sighed again and with the same fake smile addressed Can again:

\- Mister, are you boarding?

She motioned towards passport and folded boarding pass Can was holding in his hand which made him to look at it as well. He knew the mechanics of the process – God knows how many planes he boarded in his travel-fueled life – but couldn’t bring himself to lift his arm… it was suddenly so heavy.

Other passengers passed him, discussing their camping plans excitedly. Flight attendant got busy with them leaving Can alone with his thoughts.

Shouldn’t he be just as excited as these people? Shouldn’t he be happy to get back to his old life of travel and solitude adventure, with nothing but his thoughts and his camera? To get away from all the havoc and heartache of today’s life… Should feel liberating, right?

Should… but didn’t. Didn’t feel like anything at all. Felt empty. Lost.

Like a child who got lost in the airport and is standing still and waiting to be found.

Can looked around. People rushed around him, some of them running towards something, some – running away. Çan tried to convince himself he was running towards… but the truth was not even that deep down inside – Can knew he was the one running away.

\- Mister?

Flight attendant lady brought her attention back to him and Can was starting to get irritated with being rushed. To be honest, he was irritated a lot these days. And there was only one way to get it over with…

 

Can stepped forward and gave his documents to the lady. So be it…


	2. Chapter 2

_One month and few days later…_

 

The door creaked open… hm, it wasn’t creaking before… somebody will get an earful about the state of the house.

Light bag dropped carelessly on the floor followed by careful descent of camera case – it was obvious that owner took way more care about his equipment that he did for any other possessions.

The door to the right of the corridor opened and a tall man wearing pajamas and a robe stepped out, drying his face with a towel. When he turned towards kitchen – and towards main door – he stilled for a moment. A secondary panic registered on his face quickly replaced with relief and surprise. He chuckled addressing the new arrival to the house:

\- Man, you look like crap! Haven’t they invented portable trimmers specifically for your case of ‘gone with the wind’? Or were you aiming for a full-on Yeti impression?

While talking he took few wide steps and bear-hugged the aforementioned Yeti. The hug was familiar, happy sensation for both.

\- Welcome home, brother!

\- Good to be back, Emre!

And like that Can was back to Istanbul, to his home, to his… life?


	3. Chapter 3

_Later that evening… someplace else._

 

\- Sanem, it’s getting ridiculous! Yigit-bey is a very nice man and I don’t see why you don’t want to give him a chance!

\- Mom, we’ve been through this! He’s my boss, we’re working together!

As soon as she said, Sanem knew she’d gone the wrong route. Mavkibe’s eyes sparkled with the joy of new ammunition in this long battle:

\- That didn’t stop you with going out with Can-bey!

\- And look how it ended! Nothing good can come out of this, mom, so just forget it!

Mevkibe paled and set on a stool. Her eyes rolled back a little and she sighted melodramatically:

\- Why must you hate me so much? Why can’t you be like your sister? Have found herself a nice man to be married to, has a respectful job, home in time. What have I ever done wrong for Allah to punish me so much?

Sanem huffed at this performance – she knew her mother all too well to fall for this martyr tactics:

\- Mom, I want to focus on my career for now, I also have a respectful job as an editor and I’m also writing a book, so I don’t have time for anything like this, ok?

It was Mevkibe’s turn to huff – she was very much not impressed with either things Sanem has mentioned, especially the book writing trope:

\- Huh, my daughter, the author. I’ll turn grey before I see any book of yours on our library shelf, I tell you! You have to be more practical, dear, and go find yourself some happy ending, or else the only romance you’d be hearing about will be in your books!

With that Mevkibe nodded with regal conviction and left the kitchen – no doubt, to go find her older daughter to drill her about upcoming wedding. Or rather, not upcoming as Leyla kept stalling all attempts of both families and fiancé to get any preparations in order.

 

Sanem rushed to her room hoping for some peace and quiet. But the storm was never outside – she was carrying it with her wherever she went. Constant white noise as if somebody switched the channel of her life to static and instead of living she was just going through the motions.

Sanem was so tired of being… that. She was tired of breathing half-full, smiling half-way, dreaming half-time… missing a half. The half she would never be getting back… as hard as she’d tried her half… he… he’d still left. Hasn’t called, hasn’t checked on her, hasn’t responded to any of her emails… Just left.

Maybe it was silly to dream of albatross. They are migratory birds, after all, never stay in the same place too long and can’t be tamed. She offered everything she was – and it wasn’t enough. So why was she still holding on to that memory?

 

With a little bout of courage and determination born of despair, Sanem dialed a phone number. The call was picked up immediately:

\- Sanem, good evening! Is everything ok? Do you need any help?

So helpful, so considerate. Two weeks she’d twisted her ankle, so he’d brought her laptop and all her files to her home and insisted she’s stay out of the office for as long as she heals. After reports of gang activity near her bus stop, he’d picked up a habit of dropping Sanem off at her doorstep… got invited for a tea by her mother… got unanimous approval of entire aunties squadron… just your classic knight in shining armor!

Sanem chuckled to brake the awkward silence:

\- On no, Yigit, I’m fine. I was just wandering… um…

\- Yes? What is it? Sanem, you know you can tell me anything…

Sanem exhaled and rushed into her point before she had time to change her wavering mind:

\- Yes, Yigit, I know. I wanted to take you up on that offer… you know, book expo… in May, right?

\- Really?! Oh, Sanem, it’s amazing! New York is beautiful this time of year! You won’t regret it! You’ll get to meet authors I want to bring to Turkish market, go to creative writing workshops, exchange ideas with some of the most brilliant minds in today’s world…

He kept talking about details… about expediting her visa – his family were friends with American ambassador – and about Central Park and Broadway and ‘best pizza in the worlds’… Sanem barely registered his voice while Yigit continued to plan their visit to BookExpo next month. Her mind was occupied with one thought only… Can is supposed to come back the same week she’d be gone. Will he notice she’s not there? Will he care?


	4. Chapter 4

_At the same time… in the house with creaking door._

 

\- Emre, what’s up with entrance door? Has it always been creaking, or did you completely let go of housekeeping responsibilities?

Emre sipped his drink smiling into the glass. His brother returned all of ten minutes ago but has already made a registry of all the ‘wrongs’ and was voicing his grievances with gusto:

\- And cold water in my bathroom, and missing sheets – what’s up with that?

\- Shh, brother, calm! I thought you’d lived in the forest and ate pine cones – and now a little cold water is too uncivilized for you? You just seem too high-maintenance for someone who looks like… like you.

Emre actually had more colorful comparison to make but seeing how his brother was in no joking mood to discuss his rugged appearance, Emre decided better of it. He went for peaceful approach:

\- We have had a storm recently, serious one…

\- Yeah, you’ve told me about that…

\- But you should’ve seen it, man! Trees flying, power lines breaking, scary stuff! Long story short, door got damaged, man will come day after tomorrow to replace it… and hot water supply should be restored any minute now, maybe check half an hour later. As for the sheets… well, we weren’t expecting you for another month, I sent all your linens to laundry.

Emre continued to observe his brother who’d shifted in his chair uncomfortably. The conversation came to the logical point where Can was supposed to explain why his journey was cut in half and why he’d came back unannounced… and what were his plans now.

Emre knew it wasn’t for the company…. Everything was running smoothly and even father admitted that Emre was a very efficient CEO. And Emre was forever grateful that Can did not relay ALL of the details of their past problems and Emre’s role in all of that.

He also knew it wasn’t for their parents – none were in the country these days, both traveling their separate ways, happier apart than they ever were together.

And it wasn’t for him either – over the last month Can would check in every few days or so, to let Emre know he’s still alive and well. And if the news of the storm didn’t jolt his brotherly instincts to come back a week ago than it was even more mysterious as to why he’d came back NOW.

\- So, Can, brother, what brought you back so early? Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for it, but I’d rather thought we’ll have to drag you from your beloved forests and mountains… yet here you are! Did anything happen?

Can smiled a sad smile – Emre knew it to be sad because this smile didn’t touch his brother’s expressive eyes. Can answered quietly, almost a whisper:

\- Something happened… or rather didn’t. Something I thought would happen didn’t… so, I gave up. Gave up trying to find her smell in wild flowers… gave up trying to hear her voice in mountain echoes… see her face in the clouds… touch her skin in my dreams… I’ve told you before, Emre, she IS my forests, my mountains… my everything.

\- Oh… Sanem?

\- Yes… Sanem…

Can’s voice softened even more when he spoke that name… with longing… with reverence… then with determination:

\- If I am to ever start living again, I need her, brother… I need her SO MUCH!


	5. Chapter 5

_The next day…_

 

Cafeteria was usually busy this time of day but since the weather was great today most of the workers from their office building opted out to have a launch elsewhere. Sanem was looking out of the window with earning, cursing her fate that she had to stay in because she only had twenty minutes before her meeting with new author, Omer, they signed up this week and ten of those minutes were already gone.

Ayche and Gulun, their junior editor and project assistant, were sitting at Sanem’s table and chatting animatedly, discussing Omer’s book and Omer personally. Sanem has already regretted asking Ayche about the guy since she’d met him already. Sanem expected to hear some professional notes on Omer’s writing approach or how well he reacts to critics – because Sanem had some words to say about the latest Omer’s novel – or even how he is as a person. But all her coworkers were interested in telling was about Omer as a man. Words like ‘dreamy’, ‘hot’, ‘perfect’ featured a lot in their description… there was also something about ‘piercing eyes’ and ‘seductive smile’ but Sanem wasn’t sure because she couldn’t bring herself to focus on their chatter which she’d found extremely… well, boring. Also, she couldn’t believe that any one man could check all of those boxes… at least, any OTHER man. Sanem knew of ONE man who’d fit the description but there was more to him than just good looks. Sanem also remembered stubbornness and pride, iron-hot anger and unwavering belief that his truth is the only truth there is.

Don’t trust the pretty ones, her mom used to say a lot to dissuade young daughters from school boys. Pretty ones will betray you once something more interesting comes along. And there will always be something more interesting right around the corner.

Sanem hated those corners. Wrong turns she took to lose Can’s trust – and the ones that made her lose trust in him. For however many times she’d made a mistake – as many times she’d fought to fix it. But him… there was always something else for him. Something he’d cherished more than her. Her scent was more important than her heart, his male ego was more important than her sacrifice, and in the end… his freedom and peace of mind were more important than her shattered soul.

And so he left. Erased her out of his life as if they never happened. Never responded to her emails even though she went through hell stepping over her own pride and writing to him. Never checked on her…

It hurt. Having memories of him, of them – hurt. Trying to erase them, to breathe through them, to keep going – hurt more. Felt like a play she was putting up for the entire world and for herself to convince everybody she was ‘fine’. Fake it till you make it, right? And Sanem was fully intent to make it! And to get over him, no matter the cost!

But today… today was just too soon. Sanem was getting irritated with girls’ exited planning, especially with Gulun’s badly concealed attempts at matchmaking. Both girls were in happy committed relationships and were adamant to get Sanem into one as well. Luckily for Sanem, they still haven’t caught the wind of Yigit’s interest in his chief editor, else their efforts would’ve ruined Sanem’s workplace for sure. But now it seemed like it will happen anyway since they’d chosen this Omer guy as future Mr.Sanem and were pushing their agenda shamelessly.

Gulun chirped:

\- Sanem, girl, you look amazing today! Yellow is so not my color but you just look great in everything! Is there some special occasion?

Sanem straightened few folds on her yellow knee-length skirt with thin blue stripes. Her response was non-committal:

\- Just something I borrowed from my sister this morning, we’re the same size so…

What Sanem didn’t tell them was that she was having a business dinner with Yigit and CEO of competing publishing house today. And even though it was strictly business through and through, her mom still made her to look ‘like a grown-up’ – which in her mom’s vocabulary meant forgoing Sanem’s favorite skimpy skirts or baggy trousers – and to ‘make an effort for that nice boy’ – which meant Yigit. Sanem couldn’t care less about ‘effort’ part but she’d figured looking ‘grown-up’ wouldn’t hurt at the business meeting, so she’d complied.

Ayche tuned in with the compliments:

\- Oh, Sanem, dear, Omer will fall head over heels the minute he sees you! You look like every man’s dream!

Sanem rolled her eyes with their over-the-top theatrics and tried to reel in some logic into situation:

\- Don’t you think it would be unprofessional – the relationship between an editor and their author? Isn’t it some ethics violation?

Ayche giggled and winked at Sanem:

\- It sure is! But it didn’t stop me, didn’t it?

Oh, right, Sanem almost forgot. Ayche did get involved with new and promising author and had to leave her previous job – but not the author. They were planning for their wedding in June which made Ayche obnoxiously giddy all the time – and a poster girl for workplace romance with happy ending.

Sanem couldn’t argue Ayche’s logic so she went for defensive:

\- Not everybody as lucky as you are. Trust me, our office is not crowded with princes on white horses waiting to swoop us off our feet and ride away to the sunset. Some of us are here just to work!

Sanem made an indentation on ‘some of us’ hinting heavily she was one of these ‘just-working’ people – but her friends didn’t even listen. They were looking right above Sanem’s shoulder, faces dreamy and mouths agape. Gulun whispered something like ‘must be something in the water… or like a Gorgeous Magnet somewhere in the building… is he even real?’ and Sanem just knew. Without looking, without asking who it was they were marveling at… she just knew.

Sanem braced for impact when familiar voice touched her ear:

\- Hello, beautiful…

And familiar scent tickled her nostrils – she knew this scent all too well, she’d made it for him. And familiar warmth enveloped her when she’d felt his body so close behind her as she stood up… And familiar gesture of entwining their fingers together as he’d whispered:

\- We need to talk.

And just like that… Can was back in her life. So much for faking it…


	6. Chapter 6

_Few moments later, on the stairs..._

 

\- Can-bey, where are you taking me?

He stopped midstep and turned around to face her. Considering they were on the stairs and he was already taller than she was, Can was towering over Sanem and she’d suddenly felt so comically tiny. Can stepped down few steps to level with her and kissed her fingers he still held in his big hand. Then he’d answered:

\- I’m taking you to the balcony, the one I use for throwing bad writers from, remember?

Yeah, it rang a bell, but not the bell Can was hoping for. Sanem blinked few times and shook her head to dissolve the ‘Can-haze’ clouding her mind and groaned:

\- Oh no! Omer! I have to go, I have a meeting!

Can was surprised beyond himself! Meeting? Now? In the middle of him trying to profess his undying love for the woman of his dreams? Granted, said woman didn’t know about his exact plans… but really? Now?!

And who’s Omer? Can knew nothing about the guy – just his name – but even the name sounded suspicious!

\- Can-bey, let me go, I have to hurry, it’s really important!

Can… bey? They were back to this now?!

\- Sanem, wait… Who is… what meeting?

\- An important one, Can-bey! The one where my entire future may be decided! The one I’ve been waiting for this the entire month! So. Let. Me. Go!

Sanem yanked her hand out of Can’s and rushed back down the stairs in the general direction of Yigit’s office. Her yellow skirt waved around her knees like a bell as she hopped two steps at a time – not very lady-like but very Sanem-like. Can smiled noticing little things he’d missed so much about her and new things Sanem had picked up over the last month… Like a new ankle bracelet… and strings of her hair few shades lighter than her usual tone – Can wondered if she’d made it herself or if the sun already touched his bellowed this spring…

As Sanem descended to her floor, she’d stopped to catch her breath. Somebody hollered and she’d swung around towards that voice. Her skirt twirled around her hips, accenting their perfect shape – and Can felt air hitching in his throat. He gritted his teeth trying to rain in on his jealousy – Can always knew Sanem to be a beautiful woman and that other men were not immune to her feminine charms… but Sanem never gave him any reason to doubt her so he won’t!

Sanem stepped towards two men, one of whom Can immediately recognized as Yigit, that cunning, people-hitting, smooth-talking… wait! And what is he doing?!

That mental remark wasn’t even for Yigit! It was for the other guy who was HUGGING Sanem! After few moments of what seemed like introduction, he was already hugging her! The nerve!

But before Can could run down the stairs, the group was already away from the common area and into the depth of Yigit’s office.

And for the first time this day since Can decided to get Sanem back, a wild thought came to his mind – what if she’d already… moved on? What if she was not… his?


	7. Chapter 7

_Publishing house. Meeting room._

_An hour later…_

 

To say that Sanem couldn’t focus would’ve been an understatement of the day! Nay, understatement of the week, month, whole year! For the umpteenth time chief editor caught herself not being able to compute spoken language and edit a single thought to speak it out loud! And it was HER meeting, she’d called for it, Allah-Allah!

She was failing miserably and by concerned looks on Yigit’s and Omer’s faces Sanem could tell they’d noticed. Yigit asked her few times by now if everything was alright – and she wasn’t. Omer was silent on that front because for all he knew Sanem just could’ve been like this all the time – utterly and completely unprofessional. But her new author kept silent and Sanem was grateful for it.

Ayche chimed in to break yet another awkward pause:

\- Omer-bey, your last book, ‘Borrowed Name’, was a revelation to me! You’d captured emotional turmoil of the main hero so well, I felt like I was living his life! How do you manage to get such a deep inside into fictional character?

The author smiled a bit – he was used to hearing this question through all the promotional event he’s been through for his first book which became an overnight sensation – and answered simply:

\- I put a little bit of myself into every character I write. Through my characters I can think of things I, Omer, am too scared to think about, live life the way I can’t live it now, dream of things that are unreachable to me… But to borrow something from my characters I also need to give them something of myself in exchange – so this is why I understand them very well.

Ayche clapped her hands and exclaimed:

\- Allah! So, there are more meanings to the ‘borrowed’ in the title! What is the next book called? What is it about?

\- It’s called ‘Borrowed Soul’, it’s a story about a man who had to step out of his comfort zone for the person he loved… to change his entire life, really, and even stand against his entire world!

Sanem blinked and came back from her stupor. Something in Omer’s voice, that passion and conviction that followed real emotions, spoke to her. Even mesmerized her. She asked in a whisper:

\- And what do you want to borrow from your character this time? If you don’t mind me asking…

Omer looked at her… really looked at her, as if for the first time… His expression was quizzical, like nobody ever asked something so specific of him. Like he was trying to understand from Sanem’s expression if he should tell her the truth.

By the tone of his voice everybody in the room guessed that he answered honestly:

\- I don’t mind YOU asking because… and I don’t know why… but I feel like YOU would UNDERSTAND. I’m hoping to learn to be brave. To find that courage to fight for what makes me happy… even when I have to fight with myself.

Sanem listened to him carefully, her entire body leaning forward, her head nodding in agreement. She thought for a while and then asked:

\- But what is what makes you happy is not good for you? What if it makes you feel thick or hurt or… worse?

Ayche sighted in almost-real horror:

\- Sanem, janam, what are you talking about? What’s worse that feeling hurt?!

\- NOT feeling at all…

Sanem wasn’t going to say it out loud but she did. And by the way Omer was looking at her, reading her face with his dark grey eyes, Sanem knew he understood exactly what she’d meant! His words came as an absolution to Sanem’s innermost fears:

\- If a person makes you feel hurt and broken… or lesser version of yourself… then no matter what joy comes with this relationship. It’s not happiness. It’s oasis in the desert of sorrow. Then you don’t fight to keep this person in your life – you fight to keep yourself intact around this person. And if this person truly loves you, they should fight too – to learn how to be with YOU without changing you to fit with them. YOU should always be enough!

Eyrie silence fell in the room – only broken by clicks and hisses of espresso machine behind the wall. Everybody present knew they’d crossed some invisible line into personal spaces and weren’t sure how to proceed. Omer tried to dissuade the tension:

\- Sanem-hanim, I want to discuss your notes on my first draft – and I’m sure you have more – but I just flew in today and, if I’m being honest, I’m a too tired to understand anything today. Can we meet tomorrow, maybe, and discuss more? So I can go to my hotel and unwind?

He wasn’t tired an hour ago – he was just giving Sanem an out and Sanem knew it. But she was exhausted. And she took the saving grace offer:

\- Sure thing, Omer-bey, let meet… say, 10 am tomorrow? Here?

\- Ok, agreed. If only you would call me Omer, please?

Sanem agreed with a warm smile – she was positively starting to like this guy:

\- And in return you’d call me Sanem, deal?

\- Deal! So, see you tomorrow, boss?!

\- See you tomorrow, Omer!

And with that the meeting was adjourned. Ayche went to report on the progress to Yigit who had to miss the meeting due to some conference call, and Sanem was left alone in the meeting room.

She didn’t want to leave the room, not at all. Because she knew that HE was somewhere outside. And she wasn’t ready for that conversation…


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I promised few good people that there would be a story for Emre and Leyla too. And I meant it! Here this story begins and I think it's a good one =)

_About an hour later… in the same building…_

 

He wasn’t surprised to get this phone-call – sooner or later she was bound to call him with all the recent developments in mind. What he WAS surprised with was her tone – angry and accusing:

\- Who does he think he is? And why haven’t YOU told me that Can is back?

Emre’s eyebrows shot up and he leaned a little away from the phone because all the screaming could very well have damaged his hearing. He wasn’t used to that kind of treatment from his former assistant, she was an exemplary staple of pristine and dignified through and through. He tried reasoning with her:

\- Leyla, what has happened now? I’m sure, we can solve it…

Yet another scream from her side but somehow Emre heard it reverberate through the halls as well, like double echo:

\- There’s no WE, I’d told you that before! How dare you ask me what has happened as if it wasn’t you who’d orchestrated the whole thing!

The last words Emre heard not through phone but personally from Leyla who’d stormed into his office. He winced at the thought that her entire speech was happening while she was marching through the agency but then remembered that Can has let everyone to leave early today and the floor was empty. The floor was empty…

Leyla was beautiful. She always was, her big shining eyes and sensuous lips and lean frame of a body… damn these thoughts, they always got them into unappropriated tightness!

And today she was entirely different type of beauty! Shooting lightnings, all spikes and hiss, her hair loose and flaring up every time while she stormed towards him. As his princess-warrior stopped in front of him, Emre stood up. He wanted to think he did it for politeness but, to be honest, he did it to feel himself taller again – she was that intimidating in her fury. For she continued to spout accusations on him:

\- Why do you keep messing with my family? Is it not enough to break my heart, so you need to collect my sister’s too? Why are you so hell-bent on destroying my life?

Emre shook as if he words were physical punches and he was barely holding it together. He accented every word trying to let them sink in:

\- What. Ever. Have. I. Done. Now?

Leyla shouted right to his face, pressing her pointing finger into his chest in hard pricks as she spoke:

\- As if you don’t know! Can-bey came back and accosted my sister! And you’d let everyone go early – I’m sure it’s so that Can-bey can kidnap my sister again with no witnesses and no real help! And now she’s scared to get out of her office and is still there, crying her heart out! And you didn’t even tell me he came back so I could prepare her! Didn’t you know what state she was in all this time? Don’t you have any mercy? Or a heart?

And that did it! It was a time to shoot back and Emre went for it full on! No matter how much he loved her, he was not about to let this beautiful fury to treat him like that!

\- Oh, I do have it! The heart, I mean! Or I used to before you took it with you and made holes in it and are using it as a keychain ring, probably! And I did try to tell you, but you didn’t pick up the phone – as you ALWAYS do! And it wasn’t who’d let everyone go but Can – he’s still one of the managing partners here, if you remember!

Leyla stepped backwards and Emre stepped forward. She felt anger sipping out of her as he spoke, returning her accusation. He did call her today, even wrote something – but she’d deleted it without reading. Osman was driving both her and Sanem to work today and Leyla didn’t want him to see her cry without being able to explain why. And she did realize that Emre would not go as far as to try and help his brother to ruin her sister’s life again… but somehow seeing Sanem hide away in her office and crying struck a familiar cord... which led Leyla back to where this cord was attached… to Emre.

But the same way Leyla was calming down – Emre was heating up! His eyes were burning questions into Leyla’s as he spoke in broken voice:

\- Why do you think I’m trying to destroy you? Haven’t I done enough already? To you, to my own family, to my company? Do you think there’s much evil left in me? That’s why you’re avoiding me? You think I’m about to explode from all the negative energy inside me and you’re trying to avoid the shockwave? Do I disgust you?

\- No, Emre-bey, you’re not… I mean, I never thought…

And he stepped away. Shoulders slouched, head down. When he raised his eyes again, Leyla gasped at how pale he was… a shadow. She stepped forward, her instincts calling her to console him, to take this pain away… the pain she partially took credit for.

\- Emre-bey, I never thought you to be evil. Confused, yes. Misguided. A little greedy…

He scoffed and looked away with a sad smile. Leyla turned his face to look at her again as she’d continued:

\- … but I never thought you to be evil by nature. Sometimes good people do bad things and I do think that you are a good person.

\- But not for you, right? You don’t think I’m good for you?

\- I KNOW you are not good for me…

Emre wanted to say something but Leyla stopped him by placing her fingers on his lips. His eyes refocused on her mouth and for a moment they both were silent, contemplating the touch they both craved but couldn’t reach out and get. Leyla blinked her dizzying thoughts and looked him straight in the eyes again. She spoke softly, aiming to bring peace and a sense of resolution for him:

\- Emre-bey, you broke my heart. When you’d betrayed your brother, when you’d betrayed my sister… and me. And I’m not saying it to shame you now – I believe you’d already repented for your actions. I’m just saying… I won’t survive the other time. I don’t trust you to carry what’s left of my heart and not to drop it when your ambitions or… or Aylin comes calling back. I don’t trust you to… to choose me. Above anything else.

Emre kissed her palm and Leyla yanked her hand back and fisted it on her chest, as if protecting her heart from invasion. Emre touched his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. It was much easier to be like this… because even though Emre knew how much pain and disappointment he’d brought this amazing woman… it was twice as hurtful to see it reflected in her deep eyes brimming bright with unshed tears.

\- Leyla… if I could I would take all the pain onto myself. Because I love you. And it breaks my heart to know that I’m the worst thing to have happened in your life. And I am selfish, and I still allow myself to love you. I know it would be a noble thing to leave and let you live in peace… but I can’t because I love you.

When Emre looked at to gauge Leyla’s reaction, he so tears streaming from her closed eyes. She was breathing in shallow hitched breaths and biting her lower lip – no doubt, to keep herself from crying out loud. He was supposed to let her go then and there. He was supposed to – but he couldn’t:

\- Leyla, I wish I could tell you that I will let you go. But I don’t think I can. I’d like to believe that loving you makes me stronger – to be better, to be worthy – but it doesn’t make me strong enough to let you go. I want to be with you, I want to make you happy and I want to make you smile and…

.. and then it became too much. For both of them. Their lips connected like magnets that found each other after being pulled apart for far too long – and it felt right. The urgent touch… the sparkles erupting behind closed eyelids… the throaty sound escaping Leyla as she circled her hands around his neck and pulled Emre closer into her body… the way Emre stumbled as he walked them both until he pressed Layla’s soft feminine body into the wall... It was right, it was THEM.

He surfaced first – and almost dived back in when he saw her puffy well-kissed lips and dazes half-closed eyes. Emre tore his mouth off of her but couldn’t bring himself to step away. Leyla’s hands dropped from his shoulders but Emre caught them and pressed to his chest – she was suddenly mesmerized by watching her palms rise and fall as Emre was breathing heavily. He said:

\- I can feel your heart beating inside my chest. Do you hear it?

Leyla smiled. Indeed, she could feel quick rhythm reverberating through her hands into her body, but she was pretty sure it was his own doing:

\- Emre-bey, that’s your heart…

He shook his head and kissed the tip of her nose:

\- Told you already, you have my heart. Ergo, that’s your heart beating in there, whether it’s yours or mine biologically.

And that is when Leyla’s gaze finally cleared enough to focus on a thin golden ring adorning her finger. She pushed Emre away and stepped around him. He turned in confusion but seeing how Leyla clutched her hand to her chest as if wounded, he understood the change of the pace with agonizing clarity. His tone sobered up:

\- I will go find Can and talk some sense into him. You can tell Sanem he won’t bother her today. But I can’t promise the same for tomorrow and day after that – Can did come back for her. Specifically. And we, Divit brothers, are not know for giving up easily.

His tone was serious, sounded almost like a warning – which it was – but Emre softened it by winking at her as he walked to the door. At the door he’d turned around and asked:

\- Tell me, hayatim, do you like his kisses the same?

And not waiting for Leyla to answer, Emre has left his office to search for his stupid big brother. Which was a good thing because Leyla wouldn’t know how to answer anyways. Osman never kissed her like that and never pressured her into it. He was going to wait – for Leyla to turn towards him to get on with wedding preparations, to start planning the rest of their life. But somehow, the more perfect he was, the worse Leyla felt about their upcoming union.

Because she couldn’t bring herself to want to kiss him. Not like she wanted to kiss Emre. Like, all the time.

Allah-Allah, what was she to do?

And Leyla left to pry her sister from the hiding place and get them both back home. Home was safe. There was chocolate back in home. That should help!


	9. Chapter 9

_That evening… all over the place…_

 

Coaxing Can to leave the building without waiting for Sanem was hard. For some reason, the love-sick giant was convinced that he only needs to ‘explain everything to Sanem’ and all would be great again. Emre wasn’t sure what that ‘everything’ was but he was sure that a) it’s never that easy in love – otherwise he and Leyla would’ve been together ten ‘explanations’ ago and b) if Sanem was open for such a conversation she would not hide in her office. All-n-all, things didn’t look good for his brother who was failing to notice the signs. In the end, Emre had to call in the Brother Code (which he didn’t even know they had but it worked so apparently…) and to drag Can to his car. Can’s car was left at the office parking lot as Emre couldn’t trust him with driving today.

 

Evening was spent drinking, shouting proclamations and threats to the night skies, plotting their respective comebacks and overall wallowing in self-pity. Can drilled Emre about what he’d missed in Sanem’s life over the past month, mostly asking about any new men in her life, especially that one, tall-dark-and-handsome, he saw today – but Emre avoided answering these questions out of self-appointed loyalty towards Aydin family. The only thing he did share was this:

\- You know, brother… I love you beyond words and it pains me to say… but you may not be good enough for her…

Can stood up and raised his fist with the clear intention to cave Emre’s nose into his skull – but before he could do that, younger brother added:

\- She was a shadow of herself when you’d left. I’ve never seen her so… non-existent. I thought it was only me who’s… but no – we BOTH screwed up royally!

Can has fallen to the couch defeated. His hand was trembling as he reached for his glass, his voice equally shaken:

\- But I… I can fix this. I’m back and I will never let her go!

Emre half-smiled into his glass and took a big gulp. Amber liquid burned his insides and he’d noticed – not for the first time these last few months – that he doesn’t feel the taste of alcohol anymore, just the burning. Must be a side-effect of not feeling colors of life anymore…

\- You know, Can, if only it was about not letting go… And ‘fixing it’… I’m afraid it’s us that need fixing, not them or even the situation. WE have made a whole lot of mess with these women and even if we have one more chance – it will be it. One LAST chance. Thread carefully, big brother.

Can nodded absentmindedly… The rest of the evening they didn’t talk much. Just drank. Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough alcohol in the house to drink all their sorrows away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just posted three chapters so no posting for me for the next few days - hopefully, that would be enough time to write up to chapter 18 =) Let me know how it goes so far, comments may inspire me to develop some parts of the story or add more dimensions to it ;)


	10. Chapter 10

_The next day… at Fikri Harika…_

 

\- Oh, Can, I’m so happy you’re back!

Deren was beyond herself with giddiness and hugged everyone around surprising half the staff whom she’d never as much as touched before. Yes, everyone saw that art director softened much since her re-entry to the company, but it was a long way towards the ‘friendly’, so today’s jovial mood was a definite new.

\- I felt so lonely without another artistic soul to talk to! We need to have someone with your eye in the management to oversee creative side of things…

Emre raised an eyebrow at his apparent dismissal as CEO but Deren just waved it off as nuisance:

\- Ah, Emre-bey, you know what I’m talking about! With both Can and Sanem gone, there wasn’t enough talent to sustain all the new campaigns they’d brought in before they left – eventually, we’d have to drop something, I can’t work alone!

Emre bowed to Can ceremonially:

\- In this case Fikri Harika is very grateful for your timely comeback, Mr.Extremely-Talented-World-Renowned-Photographer!

Can threw a little rubber stress ball at his brother which Emre dodged and ball bounced off the wall and slid under the table. Can made a mental note to pick it up later and returned his attention to Deren’s recounting of their on-going business:

\- So, that tires campaign went without a hitch, they’ll come back next season with the new line. We’ve got a new customer in the business of toddlers clothing – you should’ve seen their models! Such cute babies – but such divas too! Naps, snacks, chats! Ughhhh!

Emre coughed to conceal his chuckle – Deren’s ‘love’ for kids was a well-known fact ever since their first shoot for school project many years ago when kids started water paint fight against Deren and ruined her brand-new designer suit.

Alas, Deren shrugged off that unpleasant memory and continued:

\- And, of course, our immediate order of business would be Sanem’s book launch next week! Should be a spectacle, really! All the big resellers are coming for the read and, hopefully, the book will be sold out even before it’s even written!

Can was silent processing information. What book? What launch? What does it mean – next week?

Not having found any of the answers in his limited database of recent events, he turned to Emre. His brother raised his hands defensively:

\- Hey, don’t look at me like that! You didn’t ask – I didn’t tell! But we are throwing them a big party, there will be media, couple of library patrons, local book shop owners and things like that…

\- Emre…

Can’s voice was harsh and Deren looked at him in surprise trying to understand the reason for this sudden change of the light mood they had before. But Emre knew the reason all right! Can wasn’t really asking about the party – he was asking about Sanem’s involvement with it. Emre took mercy on the man and developed the story further:

\- They’ve got some new author, hailed as the next big thing. Wrote just one book so far – and it was sold out in millions all over the worlds. Now he’s hunted by every publishing house in Europe – and somehow Yigit roped him into signing with them.

Deren added:

\- True, but it was Sanem who’d signed him. But the book – you should’ve read it! It was like a window into man’s soul…

\- Deren!

It was her turn to feel the wrath of Can’s ‘it’s-not-what-you-should-focus-on’ voice. But, unlike Emre, Deren didn’t get the hint and looked at Can with honest confusion:

\- What? I do have the time to read, you know! Especially something so profound, so beautiful…

Can tried calmer approach:

\- Deren, please, tell me more about Sanem’s involvement with the book.

\- Oh, that! Well, she had nothing to do with the first book! But she’d read it and convinced Yigit they should approach the author, Omer Alchally. There was no chance Omer would sign with this new nobody in the business but Sanem wrote to him – and somehow convinced him! He even said he wouldn’t work with anyone else, only with her!

Deren clapped her hands in excitement for her friend and for the great opportunity this book was giving to Fikri Harika. Can was less exited with dark suspicion creeping out from the back of his memory. He asked:

\- And this… Omer, right? Is he tall, fancy-styled dark hair, expensive suits type of guy?

Deren answered with surprise:

\- Have you met him?

\- I think I may have seen him yesterday… with Sanem.

Emre coughed again – his brother’s behavior yesterday and some of his drunken words were making much more sense now. Jealousy.

Deren wasn’t as attuned to Can’s emotional turmoil so she just chatted away without a blink:

\- Oh, right, Sanem mentioned he was coming, she was so excited to meet him! What is he like? Everyone says he’s so dreamy!

Can’s irritation rose exponentially – Deren haven’t even seen the guy but was already drooling over a mere mention of him. And Sanem… his Sanem… was EXITED to meet this… this…?

Can really wanted to call him names, but his mind supplied the image of Sanem hugging Omer and walking away with him… actually, leaving Can stranded specifically to meet that Omer and hug him and walk away with him… And Can’s mind brought back the memory to describe this dark hollow feeling forming in his chest – loss. Like when his mother left him. Like he wasn’t needed anymore.

He shook his head to get rid of unwanted memory. This couldn’t be it! He wasn’t a child anymore and he won’t let his happiness slip away from his grasp due to some stupid mistake. Even if mistake was his!

Can stood up and walked towards the door just to be stopped by Emre’s strong arm:

\- Where do you think you’re going, brother?

\- I need to talk to her. Now!

Can yanked his elbow from Emre’s grasp and was about to walk out of the office but was stopped by Deren’s giggles – she’d finally caught up with the program and was visibly enjoying Can’s despair in getting back Sanem. Allah know, they’ve had enough crap from him for trying to do just that before! A little suffering would do him good!

Can didn’t see the situation in the same positive light and growled at Deren:

\- Do you have anything AGAINST me talking to Sanem?

\- Oh, no, Can, I’m all for it! The entire office is all for it! But… you won’t find her in the office today.

\- How do you know? Where is she?

Can was looking less hostile and more worried now – did he scare her into permanent hiding? Deren took out her phone and scrolled through messages:

\- Oh, here it is! I’d invited her to have launch with us – it’s something we do every few days to exchange creative ideas and such – and she said she can’t make it today, she’s out of the office.

\- Out – WHERE?

\- Don’t know, she said she’ll be running the notes with Omer someplace nice, whatever that means.

Deren was somewhat confused by the editor’s jargon of ‘running notes’ but Can was more interested with ‘someplace nice’ reference. He enquired with the calmest façade he could master in his current condition:

\- And where would that place be, would you know? I mean, you usually know everything around here…

That was the right move on his part – play up to Deren’s need to feel omnipresent and ever-important. She tilted her head to the side and bit her lip, her gaze gliding to the ceiling. At some point Emre looked up too, expecting some sort of memory catalogue to be turning pages there. Can didn’t look away from Deren’s face, willing her to come up with a suggestion. And she did:

\- I think she might have gone to the park, you know, the one around the corner. She always says it’s the best place to think and to write. And it’s close enough so she can come back if she forgets something. And she ALWAYS forgets something, such a messy girl, it’s good she’s talented otherwise…

Can wasn’t waiting around to hear Deren’s assessment of Sanem’s alternative futures as he strode out of the room. Emre caught up with him in the corridor and blocked his exit. Can spoke, his voice breaking with cold anger:

\- Emre, I swear, if you…

\- I’ll let you go in a moment, I’m not suicidal. I just want you to think. You have caused enough trouble for Sanem with your jealousy and anger issues. Think! It’s her work, something she likes doing, something she’s excited about! Don’t ruin it for her or you will destroy more than you can fix!

\- But, brother…

Can felt defeated. He NEEDED to see Sanem, talk to her, tell her… so much… everything. But… would she listen? Or was she too ‘exited’ for this new man in her life, Mr.Soulful-and-Dreamy?

\- Emre, I need to know that I haven’t lost her yet.

Emre stepped away with his parting words:

\- Make sure not to lose hew WHILE you’re looking for your answers.

And Can has left, running down the stairs and towards the park. The park of their secret dates… their park. Why’d she brought him there?


	11. Chapter 11

_At the park…_

\- You know, Omer, this passage would feel more prominent if it was in shorter sentences. Like in gasps. Like the character can’t catch his breath… What do you think?

\- Hm…

Omer went silent, whispering something inaudibly, re-writing the paragraph as per Sanem’s suggestion. He closed his eyes; his right hand flew into air and he started scribbling with invisible ink over air parchment. Then his eyes opened wide and eyebrows went up in amusement. Omer smacked his lap and laughed:

\- When you’re right – you’re right! Feels SO MUCH better this way!

Sanem smiled at him while Omer tapped the keys of his laptop with the lighting speed. This man had an infinite creative drive and energy and Sanem was happy she was getting this glimpse into actual writing process of someone so worthy of her admiration. She still remembered a feeling of freedom when reading Omer’s fist book – and was glad this feeling was coming back now for the second too. There was some sadness to the first draft Sanem had reviewed but it felt like it was lifting with every revision – it’s like the book was helping Omer to sort through something personal and he was coming out better for it.

The author finished the revision of this para and turned to his editor:

\- Where to next, boss?

\- Page 75, not sure what that passage about thunderstorms meant, feels too detached, too hyperbolic. Would you explain?

Omer scrolled down the manuscript and reviewed the marked text. He nodded; his tone serious:

\- Oh, yes, this… The thunderstorm is supposed to be the representation of characters inner demons and how sometimes he chooses not to fight them and just expects everyone to accept them – because it’s the storm, he says, you can’t outrun the storm. And after the storm comes the rainbow – and the character believes that justifies the storm.

\- Yes, I got that part. But what is the part of ‘not every storm is a miracle’? And this – ‘Some storms come to ruin and leave nothing behind… And you can’t outrun them, you really can’t… but you still have to keep running. When fighting with storm don’t count the chances of winning. Count the running’. I’m not sure I get this part.

Sanem was silent and attentive. By the way Omer’s shoulders fell and he almost folded into himself she knew this passage was touching upon something very personal. Sanem wasn’t going to pressure Omer into admission and was ready to move on to the next note when Omer spoke:

\- My father was an abusive drunk. He never hit us or anything, but he made sure we felt like absolute nothing, worthless. The only value me and my mom had was in relation to him – she was supposed to always be there for him, support him through his down periods, and I was supposed to make him proud where he’d failed in life – in sports. It wasn’t my thing, but mother made me to comply, to appease him. She used to say, ‘He was so hurt by life, we should be his rock’. And I was a rock – always steady, solid, not moving anywhere in my life.

Omer sighted and was silent for few inhales. Then he’d continued:

\- I begged my mother to leave him. When he’d cheated on her, I begged her to leave. When he’d spent my stipend money on some crazy scheme, I demanded her to leave or let me go. But she was adamant to stay by him, always blaming his ‘inner daemons’, as he was helpless against them. And then… he’d left. Just like that, took our savings and disappeared one day. At first, I was happy, I thought I was about to start living for myself. But… my mom got so lost. She didn’t know how to be without him, how to dress if it wasn’t approved by him, what perfume to wear, what to cook if he wasn’t eating, what jobs to apply for if he wasn’t suggesting them. Turned out, she’d erased most of herself and replaced it with his needs and want – and there wasn’t enough of her left when he’d disappeared.

A single tear went down Omer’s cheek and Sanem touched her hand to his arm in a silent consolation gesture. He caught her hand in his palm and squeezed it. Omer said:

\- In a year she was gone, jumped off the bridge. Her note was addressed to him, not a word to me.

\- Omer, I’m so…

\- No, don’t say it. You have nothing to feel sorry about. This story has taught me that we all have demons – some of us just chose not to fight them or put the fight on someone else’s shoulders. This lesson cost me my mother, but I will never make a person I love to battle my insecurities for me, to be my ‘rock’ while I quit fighting.

\- Quit running…

Omer smiled at Sanem and covered her hand with another palm – she understood, he knew she would. After that letter she wrote about his first book – somehow, Omer just knew that this editor newbie would understand him better than any other seasoned professional in the field. Sanem was the one.

\- Yes, Sanem, can’t quit running. You can’t outrun everything, can’t suddenly become a perfect person with no baggage and no shortcomings… but you either run or storm will consume you and your house and your family and your life… and that’s not the way I want to go out.

Sanem was feeling dizzy – she was just hit with something so visceral and soul-cutting and she felt like she was holding something very precious in her hands. Sanem hoped it was their friendship that she was holding.

But also, it turned out, she was holding her breath. That’s where the dizziness came from, probably. Sanem realized the situation when her diaphragm contracted convulsively, and she’d hiccupped loudly. And continued to do so, shaking with all of her body in unison.

Omer looked her over and said with amused horror:

\- Well, if that’s your reaction to my deepest secrets, we’ll have to cut our soul-sharing sessions short or I’ll risk damaging my editor permanently.

Sanem tried laughing but it went out more like clucking, so she shoved the arrogant prick with her shoulder and tried speaking:

\- Stop… eek… it immi… eek… diately! Eek! Get me some… eek… water!

\- Right away, boss! Here you go, careful!

Omer held his palm under the bottle so that Sanem wouldn’t spill it on herself while she hiccupped through her drinking. Water helped some and hiccups subsided. Just as Sanem finished drinking – turned out she was very thirsty – her stomach growled loudly. Turned out she was hungry too.

Omer laughed at that:

\- First, I upset my editor, then I impair her breathing, now I starve her! I’m a model author, am I?

Sanem was feeling generous:

\- You’ll do! Shall we go find something to eat? We can invite Deren from Fikri Harika and discuss the readings arrangement for next week once again.

\- Sure, sounds like a plan!

Sanem smiled to herself as she took out her phone – finally Deren gets to meet Omer, she’s been bugging Sanem about it for days now. Also, Deren knew all the fancy places to eat and Sanem didn’t want to embarrass herself with suggesting pizza at their first business launch.

As they left the park, Sanem thought to herself that it was a start to a very good story.

…   …   …

As they left the park, Can thought to himself that he should’ve not came back. He’d lost her.

He felt stupid spying on them like this… but he had to know. The way Sanem touched the guy’s hand… the way he held it… made her laugh… their comfortable touches… emotional intimacy radiating of them in waves.

He’d lost her. And maybe not to this guy – she knew him all of two days – but to somebody other than Can. Somebody better than him.


	12. Chapter 12

_A week later... Emre's office..._

There were so many things Can WANTED to do!

Talk to Sanem – even if he had to kidnap her to the mountain hut.

Beat the shit out of that fancy author Omer – because all the affection he kept seeing between the two of them was driving Can up the wall.

Kiss Sanem senseless until she had that dazed expression and slight burns on her cheeks from his beard – so he could kiss the burns away too.

Beat the shit out of Yigit because that prick had the AUDACITY to be jealous of Sanem too! Can could see it by the way Yigit looked at that pair every time they would pass the halls deep into their book discussions... or stop in cafeteria for a quick bite... or laugh at some joke... they were inseparable and Can was dying inside at the sight of them.

... But he did none of it.

Emre spoke to him and they'd made a pact – to leave Aydin sister alone for this week. This week was in preparation for the big book opening event and both Sanem and Leyla deserved some peace of mind to get ready to shine.

No meetings, no conversations... no inhaling her sweet scent and feeling its intoxicating effect on his mind... no stealing kisses from her soft responsive lips... no swallowing her moans as her body heated up in his embrace... no nothing!

Can contemplated out loud:

\- I wonder if it's physical possible to go crazy in one week?

Emre chuckled – he knew all too well what Can was talking about:

\- Isn't it grand! Look at us – we used to be so above all of it, up in the skies with ambitions and adventures and a world to concur! And now... Two love-sick puppies waiting for a pet from their masters.

\- Is that how you see it?

Can was surprised – both by Emre's description and how ok he was with it. Emre seem to be just as fine:

\- I don't care if I have to wear dogtags that say 'If found return to Leyla' as long as I get to be hers.

\- Well, I wouldn't go that far...

\- Wouldn't you?

Emre raised an eyebrow mocking his brother's bravado. Can looked at him and broke his composure in split second:

\- Yeah, I would. I wear enough accessories as it is, dogtags with Sanem's name on it would be a welcomed addition.

Emre smiled and asked:

\- What if it's not dogtags... but a ring? Are you still planning on proposing?

\- Yes and no. 'Yes', I still want her but 'no', I don't want to rush anything, she's obviously not done exploring yet.

\- Ah, Omer-bey...

Can's anger flared at the mention of his rival's name. Images flew before his eyes... Omer feeding Sanem a spoon of his ice-cream... Omer bringing his dog – half-breed of some big variety – to the office and making Sanem giggle every time that mutt licked her... Omer helping Sanem to get rid of an eyelash pricking her eye (Can couldn't actually see it but was fairly confident as context allowed for this assumption... alternatively, Omer was dangerously close to Sanem's face for no good reason!)...

Emre, seeing how his brother was fuming with rage, decided to pour some water on that fire:

\- I'm sure it seems way different from your angle... but from where I'm standing Sanem and Omer are just really good friends. He's never done anything – that I've seen – that can be seen as romantic or even suggestive of it. I mean, for what it's worth, I don't think Sanem has anything for him except for friendly admiration. She doesn't look at him the way she looks at you, that's for sure!

Something clicked for Can and he turned to face Emre in a quick motion:

\- Looks at me how? I always feel like she looks disappointed... or angry...

Emre laughed:

\- Yeah, that too! You do know how to push her buttons! But also... there's this longing in her gaze... like she's still waiting for you to... do something.

\- Do WHAT?

\- Hell if I know, man! It's not like I'm very successful in this myself! At least, your bellowed is not engaged to the Most-Perfect-Man-To-Walk-The-Earth! How does one compete with THAT!

Emre's frustration was very evident in his voice and the way he rubbed his face as if to wake up from his own personal nightmare. Can felt for his brother – he may have screwed up big time in the past, but Can was still hopeful Emre would recover and find his happiness. With Leyla, if that was it for him. Can still had his doubts about that last part.

\- I don't know, man, I never pictured you falling for Leyla. You always preferred these chic society girls with long legs and even longer family lineages... and Leyla is so...

While Can got lost for words to describe Emre's former assistant, his brother could speak volumes about her:

\- ... so real? Down to earth? Normal? Pure, beautiful, naïve, respectful, amazing, protective of her family, open, honest, supportive, with a touch that makes me want to live, and her eyes...

\- Yes! All of that! Stop it! I got it – you're in love, she's you whole universe and all that jazz – but spare me the lovey-dovey details!

Emre took Can's escapade in light mode and returned it with a quote:

\- 'She's my mountains, she's my forest' – look who's talking!

\- Shit, yeah! We've both got it good, haven't we?

They both laughed at the same time and Can added:

\- And they are SISTERS! And their parents probably hate our guts!

The laughter turned hysterical and stopped abruptly when Deren showed up at the door:

\- Well, I'm glad you're in a good mood! Save it for the party this evening!

Can and Emre exchanged haunted looks – the verdict night! The week has passed!

Deren interpreted their silent exchange differently and retorted before they had a chance to refuse her:

\- No, you're both going! Fikri Harika needs to be represented equally with Yigit's office and I'm going to have our best creative and business minds there with me! No excuses!

Oh, Divit brothers weren't looking for excuses to escape the party. They were just fearful of what comes next!


	13. Chapter 13

_At the same time... Leyla's office... because it has doors._

That was a very serious discussion between Aydin sisters on the matters of utmost importance!

\- So, what are you wearing for the big evening? That blue dress with silver flowers?

\- No, Leyla, YOU are wearing that dress!

\- Oh no, the front slit is too revealing! And it's too deep of a shade, I'll look pale...

\- Nonsense! I'll do your make-up and hair and trust me – there wouldn't be a head left unturned after you!

Leyla scoffed in dismissal:

\- Why would I need any heads turned after me if I'm going with Osman.

Sanem nodded solemnly – but also to hide a wicked smile on her lips. She loved Osman, he was one of her dearest friends – and Sanem didn't want him to end up in loveless marriage. Which would happen if Leyla continued with her misguided noble act of 'I promised. And I don't want to embarrass our family!'. Sanem couldn't care less about their family's embarrassment – Allah mia, their parents knew worse – but she also was weary of the fact how this imminent break will affect Osman. Sanem figured that the sooner Leyla comes to her senses and talks to Osman about her real feeling towards him – or lack thereof – the easier it would be for Osman to recover.

Unfortunately, Sanem failed to convince Leyla of her position. Cue Plan B – to make Leyla face her feelings towards Emre-bey and force her to choose. Leyla was too honest to play with Osman like that once she'd admitted she was still and always in love with Emre.

Cue Plan B – Stage Two: to make Leyla irresistible for tonight and make Emre-bey do something stupid and romantic which would force them to talk. Sanem knew her sister well and felt that Leyla was on a verge of falling hard – and Sanem was to make sure that Emre-bey would be there to catch her!

Leyla was not in on that plan and understood Sanem's concentrated silence with kaleidoscope of different facial expressions in her own way:

\- Ok, I'll wear the blue gown. You should wear red then, that color suits you!

Oh, Sanem knew it suited her fine! She still remembered Can's bewildered expression when he saw her at Leyla's engagement – that was priceless! And maybe getting his attention today would be a good idea too...

But... he was so distant this past week. Sanem knew he was giving her time and space... and Sanem KNEW she needed that time and space... but some part of her still wanted to run into his arms and forget anything that has ever happened – apart for them.

'Them' she could never forget – even though she'd tried. Can was printed into her skin with invisible ink which was surfacing when her body heated from his touch... or even his presence. Can was written into her soul and all the stories that ran through Sanem's imagination and her dreams had some of that mysterious albatross in them. He was ever-present on all the pages of her life, even empty ones – like a binding that brought all of it together and made sense to it all.

Sanem knew she wasn't ready to forgive him because every memory of Can came with a bitter taste of the side-memory – he'd left her.

But she also knew she was ready to talk.

So red it is!

 

_Later that evening... Dressing room in the conference hall..._

From Can, 20:49:'I want to talk to you. I want to hold you and never let go of you. But Emre says you're hiding from me. I think, I understand. I hurt you and for that I'm very sorry. I hurt myself too but that's no excuse. I'll wait for when you are ready to talk. I love you, bi tanem! Good night!'

To Can, 21:17:'Give me a week. I can talk then. Good night.'

Today was the night. The one she was planning for in more than one sense. Was she ready?

Sanem looked at her reflection in the mirror then back to her phone with that one message from Can from one week ago then back to the mirror. Probably, red wasn't the best choice – she was too flushed for it. But other than that – she was ready!

 

_Same time... Aydin house..._

From Emre, 21:32: 'Spoke to Can – he won't bother Sanem anymore. They'd agreed on some waiting period and I'll make sure he stays away'.

To Emre, 21:36: 'Thank you, Emre-bey'

From Emre, 21:33: 'Maybe, a waiting period is a good idea... Can we agree to talk in one week? I promise to behave!'

To Emre, 21:45: 'Why are you doing this to me?'

From Emre, 21:46: 'Because if it's still doing something to you, means I have a chance. I only want to talk to you. Please.'

To Emre, 22:52: 'Yes. One week.'

From Emre, 22:52: 'Thank you. Good night!'

 

\- Are you ready?

Leyla tore her eyes from her phone screen and looked at Osman. He was standing at the door, offering his arm to help her walk over to the car in her high heels. Osman look dapper with his three-piece suit and styled hair – perks of becoming a popular actor!

Leyla looked back on her screen and nodded:

\- I am.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The timeline. While the premise suggests that this story is AU post Episode 30, that's not exactly the case. For Sanem and Can it's post Episode 30: Can has left, Polen has left too, Sanem has started working for Yigit and all that. For Leyla and Emre it's post Episode 34: they have had their conversation in the park, Leyla has left Fikri Harika and started working for Yigit. And some of the events are presumed to have taken place earlier than in the show: for example, that fiasco dinner between Divits and Aydins (Episode 35) did happened but before the breakup (I'll need that drama for a later story).
> 
> Number of chapters. When I began this story, I planned out the entire plot and it was divided by 28 chapters. As I'm writing the story some chapters grow to be too big and get divided by two, and also some side-stories are developed in more details and I add a chapter for that too. So, while the total count of chapters now stands at 32, that doesn't mean that I randomly get lost in my own story – the plan is still there =)
> 
> Next chapter. Ok, I just posted two chapters! Come on! =)  
> Next time I'll be posting would be this Sunday or Monday after that because this is when I get back from spring vacation with my family. And I'm not taking my laptop with me (or else work will find me!) so I won't be able to edit/write further.и
> 
> Rating. Eventually, this story will have mature context. How do I know? I'd just written it, about four pages worth of nsfw =) You've been officially warned!


	14. Chapter 14

_At the reception…_

 

Why? WHY? Allah, have mercy on him, WHY?! Why has she decided to wear red?!

Oh, by the looks she gave him, Can knew exactly ‘why’ – Sanem was doing it on purpose, to keep him on his toes as she was gliding through crowds, greeting people he didn’t notice and smiling to others who were not him. And then, occasionally, she would look him dead in the eyes and Can would stumble or choke or both – overall, short-circuit – Sanem knew EXACTLY what she was doing to him.

More interesting question was still ‘What was she doing it for?’. Sanem didn’t need to go to these lengths to get him unravel like this, she barely needed to enter the room and he was a goner. Why the effort?

… And few hours later Can wasn’t so sure it was even for his benefit that she’d looked so stunning. Yigit was there every step of the way. Introducing her to new people, touching her elbow to lead the way further into the crowd, bringing her drinks (Can checked, nothing alcoholic!), fixing her hair… Can never felt so eager to wring anyone’s neck like he did today – that man was simply asking for it! And to add to the matter, Yigit payed no attention to Can’s visible anger! Not a glance, not even a victorious smile that he can be with her and Can can’t – Can was simply a non-entity for that lucky bastard!

That was until Omer showed up. The room lit up with smiles and cheers automatically – seemed like the man was universally liked! To be really honest, Can could see the appeal – Omer was effortlessly charming, chivalrous and very fancy in his well-fitted suit. What Can also had to be honest about was that Omer and Sanem – yes, Sanem… his Sanem! – made a really beautiful couple as they were making another round and Sanem introduced the new hot author to everyone she’d just talked to half an hour ago.

Deren tried to get Can’s mind off of following Sanem with his gaze but after many futile attempts she’d abandoned this hopeless task and went to mingle into the crowd. Can was left to sulk by the tables unsupervised.

With some dark satisfaction Can noticed that Yigit lost his good mood too – affection between Sanem and Omer was palpable and Yigit drifted behind them like a forgotten balloon. Few times Sanem turned to him to say something and Yigit’s face would beam with a smile. Can knew the feeling – that warm and peaceful feeling of Sanem’s attention. Just not for him.

Sanem did come to meet him and then few times more to talk briefly about the reception, people she’d met, things she’d wanted to remember from tonight… She’d apologized for not being able to stay with him more – Sanem was genuinely surprised to be so busy at the event where she wasn’t the main attraction. Can would argue that she WAS a main attraction, at least for him, but it seemed like many other men would argue the same – both Yigit and Omer couldn’t be without her even for a moment and would come to take her away from Can before he can talk to her for real.

Things started looking up for Can when Emre showed up at mid-point of the evening. Can was surprised to see his brother, Emre usually wasn’t for these public events and this time his presence wasn’t strictly required as Can and Deren were already there. But Emre still came and Can was grateful for his support.

Only it became very obvious that Emre wasn’t there to support anyone – Emre’s eyes were searching the crowd meticulously and he barely responded with monosyllables to Can’s stories about today’s evening so far. It took Can half a second more to figure out the real reason behind his brother’s unexpected appearance:

\- Leyla?

Emre’s searching gaze turned to Can immediately:

\- Where?!

Can chuckled and shrugged:

\- Don’t know, man, haven’t seen her today…

Emre’s shoulders slouched and Can hurried with silver lining:

\- But Sanem told me she was coming today. Just have to wait…

\- Yeah, the waiting… So, you and Sanem spoke? How did it go?

Emre tried to change the subject and even though Can was not the fan of the chosen topic he still went for it and faced the sad truth:

\- It didn’t. I mean, we spoke, but it was just small talk, chit-chat… I’m hoping to catch her sometime this evening, when she’s done with her hostess duties.

Emre followed Sanem through the hall with his eyes and complimented her:

\- Seems like she takes to this job like a fish to the water!

Can nodded and hissed through gritting teeth:

\- Yeah, all too well, if you ask me. She hardly has any time to talk to me!

Emre nodded but there was no sympathy in his answer, very much matter-of-fact statement:

\- So far, you’ve been on a steady diet of long-legged models and rich girls with no professional attachments whom you were meeting once a month. And I’ve dated girls who have ambitions and jobs. And trust me, brother, if you want your relationship to go anywhere – you’d better get used to sharing her with her job! Otherwise, you’re choke her out of your life…

Can looked at Emre incredulously:

\- I’m not sure I want Sanem to have ambitions like Aylin, man! That woman was straight up crazy!

Emre looked away, seemingly scanning the crowd. But Can knew better that that – his brother just didn’t like to remember that part of his life and what it brought for all of them. Still, Emre responded:

\- First, I agree – she was crazy. Second, it’s not about that. I’m saying that Sanem has too much to offer to this world, both personally and professionally, and it’s not up to you to hog all of her time and act like petulant child when she’s not around.

Can smirked and elbowed his brother turning his attention to him:

\- And since when you’re such an expect in ‘All things Sanem’, huh, Emre Divit?

\- Since she’s Leyla’s sister, since I know how to listen and since you’d decided to fall in love with her. It may not seem like much to you, my dear creative brother, but for us, boring business people, observation and analytical skill are very important. And I do not turn off my attention just because it’s a matter of heart and not business.

Can felt Emre getting irritated and defensive, like every time when Can challenged his authority – but Can was very surprised by Emre taking this kind of stance. Can genuinely thought Emre would side with him since his situation was very similar in this sense. Can probed:

\- Are you honestly going to tell me you don’t want Leyla back to our office, to be at arm’s reach from her, to be able to see her through that glass wall?

Emre was silent as if contemplating the question. Can thought back to the time Sanem wanted to quit the agency to stop people meddling with their relationship, especially her mother. Leyla’s mother too!

Emre turned to face Can, agony in his eyes, anger in his voice:

\- Why are you doing this to me, Can? I know, I’m not the best of brothers, but should you torture me like that? Yes, I do want her close to me, but not at the cost of her freedom, Leyla would never go for it, I have learned it the hard way! But it’s not about how close she is to me if she doesn’t want to be with me at all!

Can leaned back surprised by sudden outburst of emotions from his usually composed brother. Slowly, Can was beginning to realize he wasn’t paying enough attention to Emre’s problems and situation has been more serious than he’d imagined. Can tried to calm him down:

\- Emre, brother, I’m sorry, I didn’t…

\- No, you didn’t, did you? You have this license to be a free spirit, to fly where wind blows and don’t care of what you leave behind! And now when you’d decided to stop and think for a second – for the first time in your life – you’re surprised it’s difficult? Yes, brother, it’s going to be difficult, because you’re not dealing with the same tumbleweed as you are! You fell in love with home girl, who cherishes connections and home and being there for her! She makes friends, grows roots and anchors down for winters!

\- Hey, hey! When did it become about me?!

\- Really, when?! When did you decide that if you want to glue Sanem to your hip and make her follow you wherever you go then I must want the same? We’re not the same, Can, we were raised differently, so don’t forget that!

Can caught Emre’s forearm and pressed him away from the tables. When they were further from the crowd, Can hissed:

\- Wasn’t my fault that we weren’t raised together! Mother said she could only take one and she chose YOU!

Emre pushed back:

\- But it wasn’t my choice either! Wasn’t my fault either! I was a child!

Can felt like air was punched out of him. He said softly:

\- But I never said it was your fault…

\- Did you? Have you ever said it wasn’t? You are my older brother, Can! You were my hero! But then… you were so upset with mother that you’d abandoned me too!

\- I didn’t…

\- You did! I’d come home for holidays and I wouldn’t even know what to talk to you about because every mention of my life reminded you that I had a mother and you didn’t! I felt so guilty for having her! So, I talked about you, your interest, your hobbies, your plans for the future… It was always about you!

\- Emre, brother, I’m sorry, I never…

\- No… No…

Emre stepped away, shaking his head and clenching and unclenching his fists. He shook his head to clear it up and then said:

\- I’m sorry, Can. It wasn’t your fault, none of it was. It was mine. I got so caught up in trying to prove myself to father and earn his respect by outplaying him in his game… that I played myself. Nearly destroyed the company, nearly destroyed you… and…

\- Leyla…

\- Yes, I’d destroyed that too.

Can Shook his head and turned Emre to face the entrance:

\- No, Emre, not that. Leyla came.

Entering the hall was Leyla… and Osman. Sanem immediately caught up with them and after a round of hugs led them to the center of the hall, where Omer, Yigit, Deren and few others gathered by the reading stand. Emre followed Leyla with unblinking gaze, mentally calling to her to look at him. As if she’d heard him, Leyla’s head turned around to where Emre was standing… and when she’d locked eyes with him, Leyla nodded her greetings and offered him a shy smile.

Emre whispered to himself:

\- Now, what it that supposed to mean?

Can circled Emre’s shoulder and squeezed it in supportive gesture:

\- Welcome to my night, brother! It’s a nightmare, but you’ll learn to like it!

 


	15. Chapter 15

_The same night…_

- … And, maybe, living my life to the fullest won’t be possible without you in it. Maybe, I don’t want to go because you are the adventure I’m most looking for. Maybe…

- So many ‘mayby’s’… You’re not sure?

- I am… but are you?

- I am… I am! …but what if my soul can’t bare so much love?

- Well… you can borrow mine.

When Omer silenced and closed the folder with book extract he’d just read, the hall erupted with applause. People rushed to the stand to congratulate the author with yet another masterpiece – even though they’d heard only few pages worth of text, everybody were generous with compliments calling the new book ‘brilliant’ and ‘inspired’ and ‘brave’ and ‘eye-opening’. Omer thanked all the well-wishers and tried to get down the stand, but it wasn’t easy as many more people were queuing up to talk to him. In attempt to get some attention off himself, Omer brought unsuspecting Sanem into the mix:

- Friends, trust me, none of it would’ve been possible without my genius editor, Sanem Aydin! Her direction shaped the book more than my imagination ever did! And if anyone ever doubted my decision to sign with her house – I can state unequivocally that it was the best decision any author can make! At least, if you’re hoping for success!

Omer smiled genuinely at Sanem and she smiled back – but only until she’d realized that a swarm of people rushed to her side to pick her brain about her work process and what other books she was working on. Sanem threw a death glare to Omer who just kept smiling having unloaded some attention off his back.

Can kept silent standing in the corner by the sound system. His thoughts were in disarray and not a happy one. Damn, that guy was talented, Can had to admit it! The piece he’d just read… it was something Can would read TO Sanem if he ever wanted to tell her of the depth of his feelings! But things like that were supposed to be written by some emotionally grown up, older people… preferably, from another continent… and female. And not by the good-looking guy who was smiling at Sanem with ease and she was smiling back!

Emre was standing next to Can in a similarly sour mood – while everybody was listening to the sensational reading with bated breath, Emre couldn’t catch one because he was too focused watching Osman whispering something to Leyla the whole time – apparently, Leyla’s fiancé was not a fan of sensitive prose and couldn’t care less about the subject of the evening. To be completely honest, so did Emre – current reading exercise engaged his attention far less than slender beauty in front of his eyes.

At some point Osman caught Emre looking at Leyla… Osman’s shoulders straightened, and his muscles flexed visibly under the thin fabric of his suit – and Emre remember that before his acting career Osman was successful in working butcher’s ax. Did Emre care? No, he did not! And he’d met his rival’s gaze with a smirk, an arched eyebrow and a mock salute with a drink…

As if on cue, Divit brothers looked at each other and nodded in silent agreement – if there was ever a time to make their move, it was now. The crowd that formed around the guest of honor dissipated slowly allowing for a window of opportunity to reach their target zone. And just when they were about to step forward – the target zone lit up again! This time – for Osman’s benefit. Some literary agent scouting for a good book-to-movie story recognized Osman from his recent TV fame and made a whole point of gathering more people to discuss whether Osman would make a good main character for this book. Sanem was brought to wager on character’s merit, Omer was asked if movie deal was discussed already, Deren gushed about discovering Osman in the first place… suddenly, the target zone was overcrowded AGAIN!

And Osman just stood there, smiling shyly and nodding along with whatever was discussed. Leyla shifted uncomfortably away from the commotion and moved to whisper something to Sanem. Sanem listened and looked at her sister in surprise, then nodded and took Leyla’s hand in the obvious gesture of encouragement. Emre didn’t know what’d upset Leyla so much – he was hoping it wasn’t him, he behaved today – but his entire body was buzzing with the need to go to her and comfort her and…

- Don’t!

Can stepped from behind and spoke in hushed but firm voice:

- Don’t make a scene!

- I wasn’t going to…

- You were! If you go to her now, there will be a scene, her boyfriend…

- Fiancé, Can, fiancé… damn him!

- Ok, her fiancé has been itching to rearrange your face ever since he saw you. Don’t give him any more reasons to do that. Not here.

Emre looked at his brother in surprise – lesson in jealousy moderation from Can Divit? That’s a first! Must be moon eclipse or something!

- Who are you and what have you done to my brother?

- Ha. Ha. Very funny, Emre, and very original, completely new material! I’m serious, don’t ruin this for Sanem, or I…

- My oh my, there’s a line forming to cause me bodily harm this evening! Weird popularity, I have to say…

- Emre, cut it! Are you drunk or something?

Can looked at Emre’s glass with suspicion – if was as full as when Emre took it off server’s tray. Emre wasn’t drinking but was getting more agitated by the minute. Can looked back to where Sanem and Leyla were standing, holding each other in embrace and watching Osman talk to his new fan club. Can wondered briefly what it would feel like if Sanem was the one getting married – and shrugged from sudden chill running through his veins. The thought was unfathomable.

Can turned to his brother again and suggested:

- Man, I don’t think it’s our day. Shall we go home?

Emre tore his eyes from Leyla and looked at Can. He was about to say something when crowd in the center of the room started chanting ‘Speech! Speech! Speech!’.

Turns out, Osman’s ‘local celebrity’ status somehow required him to publicly voice his opinion on the book – media people insisted – and Emre stopped to witness the upcoming fiasco with grim satisfaction. Osman was NOT listening to the book extract so what possibly could Prince Charming say now?!

But Osman… said enough. He may not have been listening, but Osman knew enough of the first book to compliment the author – Omer smiled and bowed his head, Sanem clapped enthusiastically, Can became green… Osman then proceed to discuss his plans for immediate future both professional and personal. In the end Osman has invited Leyla to join him at the stand and introduced his one of a kind beloved Leyla, his inspiration and reward. And then he’d kissed her.

Took her face with both hands, his fingers caressing the soft skin of her neck, drawing her closer to him until their lips met. Leyla’s hands moved automatically to grab the lapels of Osman’s jacket, one of his hands travelled down her spine to her waist and pressed them closer together. Another kiss. People cheered, finding this romantic moment to be a perfect culmination of today’s evening.

A loud noise startled Leyla and she broke free from the kiss. Having found the source of the noise, she froze in place. Emre’s eyes were burning through her, a storm of questions flashing in the silence between them. Do you love him? Does he make you happy? Do you like his kisses the same?

Felt like a trance – them staring at each other. But eventually hushed voices and pointed fingers drew Leyla’s attention to something else – to the table where Emre’s hand covered shards of glass and table cloth was getting soaked with brown and red liquids. Leyla gasped and looked at Emre again – but he didn’t even seem to notice that he broke his glass or that he was bleeding.

Can did. He forced Emre out of the room and towards the exit:

- I’m taking you to the hospital.

- Why?

- Seriously, man? Look at your hand!

Emre looked at both his hands and finally his mind registered something underneath the emotional pain that was overflowing his system. His reaction was:

- Oh… Huh…

- Yeah, huh! We’re going to the hospital!

- We’re not.

- Yes, we are!

Emre stopped dead. He may not have had that much in common with his brother, but he was just as stubborn!

- No, Can, we’re not! It doesn’t feel deep and I can fix it myself! And you stay here and talk to Sanem. There’s no point for both of us to ruin our lives in the same evening…

- My brother’s bleeding out takes precedent over me trying to fix my love life!

- Your brotherly love is duly noted and deeply appreciated but cut the bullshit, Can! I can handle this myself and you need to go and do whatever it is you came here for!

- But…

- No ‘buts’, Can! I…

Emre shook his head and touched his good hand to Can’s shoulder in reassurance. His voice was tired and honest:

- Can, I just need… I need to be alone now. Need to process. I… I knew already. But I need to… I don’t know. But I know I need to be alone.

And that Can understood. He had his mountain house to hide away – Emre did not. His brother needed space to grieve and Can would give it to him!

- Ok, Emre, I’m calling you a taxi and you are going home. Take care of your hand. I’ll come check on you later tonight. Promise me you’ll be home!

- Where else would I go?

Emre’s voice was so empty, indifferent – but Can didn’t buy it for a minute!

- Promise me, Emre!

- Promise, promise! Go already! I’ll be fine…

Can’s phone pinged announcing that taxi has arrived – Emre nodded and left to find his ride. Can committed to watch the app to make sure that Emre arrived home. He did.

 

_P.S. No, I did not copy the 'call Sanem to the spotlight' from Can, I wrote this piece few weeks ago. So don't try to draw any parallels there =)_


	16. Chapter 16

_In Divit's house..._

Once he'd arrived home, Emre mixed himself a drink and dropped on the sofa in the main room. He didn't feel like changing out of his suit, but he took off his tie – it made for a convenient bandage for his hand and Emre didn't plan on putting in more effort. He checked the time – turned out, the longest night of his life wasn't even that long, it was just little over 11 pm and Emre still had few more hours before tiredness will claim him to the land of restless sleep.

Few hours came and passed, and sleep was still nowhere to be seen. Emre was grateful to Can for staying out today... with just a little pang of envy – maybe, Can was staying out because his talk with Sanem went well and they were celebrating their reunion someplace private. But in the end, Emre was happy for his brother – at least, one of them could be happy today, 1:1 for the match between Divit brothers and heartbreak.

Emre contemplated drinking, the heaviness of the glass in his hand providing familiar sense of comfort and promise of oblivion. But something tugged on the corners of his mind... something like a memory of Leyla. She'd seen him through few drunken episodes and even more hangovers, she was always supportive and protective – but Emre knew his morally pure assistant was judging him. It used to irritate him so much! Her big blue eyes freezing over with disapproval and general disdain – as if she didn't indulge in anything in her life! Perfect and prim Leyla!

But she was. She was perfect. Aylin was right – he wasn't good enough for Leyla, he wasn't of the same kind of people, of the same class. Apparently, Osman was.

Emre groaned and placed the glass back on the table. She wouldn't see him now, wouldn't judge, wouldn't care for his drinking at all – but Emre still refused to fall down that hole. Like an act of rebellion against his vile nature that costed him Leyla.

Time has passed. Hours? A minute? What was the difference?

The doorbell rang. Did Can forget his keys? Is he back to check on Emre or because his evening didn't work out as well?

As Emre stood up to open the door, he chuckled grimly to himself. 'Didn't work out' was a major downplaying in regard to his evening. But why was he hoping for anything at all?

Emre swung opened the door and his welcoming words stuck in his throat. At the door... Leyla was standing. The same blue dress with silver embroidery at the waist line, the same big blue eyes – clear and accented. Some of the make-up was gone and her face was a little puffy as if she was crying earlier. But right now, Leyla was composed and elegant as always, looking at him with worry and expectation.

Not registering the proper welcoming etiquette, Emre squeezed out one word:

\- Why?

Leyla smiled... a small smile, really, but the one that touched her eyes and Emre swallowed hard at the sight of it. The real smile.

Leyla nodded and took a half step forward:

\- May I?

Emre looked at her feet, at the floor beneath him and a doorstep between them, finally realizing he was keeping his guest outside. Emre almost jumped back and made a wide inviting gesture:

\- Yes, sure, welcome!

Leyla walked in gliding by him to the depth of the house, only glancing at him once to make sure Emre was following her. In the main room she'd turned around and asked:

\- Where do you keep First Aid kit?

\- Why?

\- That's becoming a popular question today, Emre-bey.

He nodded in acknowledgement that he was sounding like a broken record but still...

\- You haven't answered my questing, Leyla.

\- You haven't either, Emre-bey!

She pointed towards his hand:

\- I don't think that constitutes as bandage and I promised Can-bey to take care of you.

Emre squinted and asked with suspicion in his voice:

\- Can sent you here?

Leyla shook her head a little:

\- No, he did not, but I did ask him where to find you. He's still at the reception, if you're wondering...

\- Why?

\- I think, Can-bey still hopes to talk to my sister and...

Emre came closer to Leyla and his abrupt approach stopped her mid-word. She raised her head to look Emre in the eyes, silently asking something. Emre was looking for answers of his own:

\- Not that 'why', Leyla! Why did you come here? Why did you ask Can about me? Why did you promise to take care of me? Why were you crying?... No, don't hide, I know you were!

Leyla tried to look away but Emre caught her chin and turned it back. Leyla blinked few times refocusing on his face, then focused on his hand still touching her face ever so gently.

\- Emre-bey, please, tell me where you keep your First Aid kit.

Emre stepped away and sighted in exasperation:

\- Fine, ok, let's do it your way! Wait here!

In few wide strides Emre has left the room, Leyla has heard multiple noises of shuffling drawers, then Emre came back with a box marked with red cross and placed it on the coffee table.

Silently, with just her nods and gestures, Leyla made Emre to sit down and sat beside him. She untangled the tie carefully not to disturb Emre's wound. He'd heard as Leyla stifled a pained groan as she saw uneven edges of a deep cut on the outer ridge of his palm. Leyla cleaned it very tenderly, looking at him from time to time to assess if she was causing any pain. She wasn't, actually, and Emre was surprised by it. When Leyla applied medical glue – something Emre knew they had in the kit but never learned how to use it – he was even more surprised:

\- You're actually good at it! Special training or just a natural healing talent?

\- Mostly experience, I guess. Sanem was really clumsy as a child and I had to take care of many bruises and cuts and scrapes. I do have a First Aid training, we've had it for the entire office almost one year ago, remember?

Emre nodded with vague recollection of said training which he definitely did not attend. Leyla smiled:

\- Yes, you weren't there, you were with...

She stopped and swallowed. Emre could guess who he was with two years ago and for whom he could forgo annual First Aid trainings which were mandatory for the staff. He changed the subject:

\- I was right not to go to the hospital then! My nurse is way more beautiful than any in the clinic!

Leyla looked at him with something that read like disapproval for his bad compliment manners. She was silent for a bit while she applied bandages but then said:

\- Emre-bey, I still think you need to go to the hospital... if you want, I can go with you to make sure you get the prettiest nurse on shift.

Ok, Emre had to admit his macho compliment did not hit the target, quite the opposite. But he was also happy for this little banter – Leyla was keeping him in check, always making sure he's doing right, being a better person.

A better person... who is about to hug, and kiss, and let his passion completely consume someone else's fiancée.

Emre leaned away from Leyla, hoping that a little distance will help dissolve the magnetic pull between them. It didn't work. So Emre decided to go the traditional way, putting distance between them with his words:

\- Leyla... I'm sure Osman is waiting for you already. Thank you for the help, I don't want to burden you any longer... Not today, not ever... I know now you'd made your choice and I'll... do my best to respect it.

These words felt like glass shards passing through his throat – but this was something Emre needed to say. A flash of pain ran through Leyla's features as she listened to him silently, giving him time to let it all out.

Emre stood up and came to the open porch door, his back to Leyla. He couldn't bring himself to see her leave him again. Emre heard Leyla move from the sofa, her dangling earrings providing melodic tone to her steps... until he has heard her voice right behind him. Leyla's voice was soft like a caress against his burning mind:

\- Ask me again.

Emre didn't turn around, afraid he'd lose it having her so close to him and do something rude. His voice came out hoarse:

\- Ask you what?

\- Ask me all the 'why's'?

Emre was surprised by the repetition game but complied by asking the most important 'why's' swirling through his mind:

\- Why did you come today? Why do you want to take care of me? And why were you crying?

Instead of answering, Leyla pressed herself to Emre's back while her hands slipped around his chest and hugged him. Emre inhaled with a hiss and felt his head getting dizzy with too much oxygen at once. Leyla's head rested against left shoulder blade as she'd listened to Emre's frantic heartbeat. She said:

\- It's still beating for me, right?

And that was enough of a reason for Emre to exhale:

\- Yes...

Emre circled his hands to covers hers across his chest, to hold her closer in this inverted embrace. He'd heard Leyla whisper:

\- That is why... Because mine beats for you too and not for anyone else.

That did it! Emre swung around and closed his entire body around Leyla's lean frame, scarred it was all just a feverish dream too happy to be real. But she was real, his beautiful Leyla... trembling beside him, clutching the fabric of his jacket, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. Being with him!

 


	17. Chapter 17

They stood like that for a while and for the first time this evening Emre didn't want today to end. By the feel of her touch as Leyla pressed into his body so tightly Emre knew she felt the same. Something clicked between them and it became so normal and comfortable to just hold each other. But eventually Leyla's legs started to tremble in the knees from all the strain of high heels, and she'd whispered:

\- Emre-bey, can I sit down?

He stepped away immediately and led her to the sofa by the hand. When seated, Leyla clasped her hands on her lap demurely and looked at Emre. He just shook his head 'no' and brought her fingers to his mouth to kiss. Leyla shied away but Emre wouldn't let her – he'd untwined her fingers and cradled his face to her palm while kissing the other. Leyla was gradually getting deeper shade of red and Emre was very amused by her natural modesty. He said:

\- I can stop it if you want, if you don't feel comfortable you just have to tell me and I...

\- Don't... It's... nice.

Emre smiled happily at this admission and added:

\- But if anything, ever fells wrong you will tell me, right?

\- Yes, Emre-bey, I will.

Emre frowned:

\- But why is it always 'Emre-bey'?

Her answer was simple and straightforward:

\- I'm not sure who we are to each other. I used to call you Emre-bey for years, then Emre for few days then Emre-bey again. And...

Leyla pressed her lips together and looked away. Emre slid down the sofa to kneel before her and to find her eyes again. He asked:

\- And?

Leyla nodded and bit her lip to keep her answer from slipping. Emre prodded her again:

\- And, Leyla? Please, I need to know!

\- Emre-bey, it didn't work out the last time I'd called you 'Emre' and I won't make it through another time like that.

Emre bowed his head in acknowledgement of their history. He knew it wasn't his name that jinxed it but him personally. Leyla's fear was natural but Emre didn't have much to say to dispel it. As he was thinking over his next words, Emre felt Leyla's fingers run through his hair. It was a pleasant soothing motion and his tension began to dissipate. He'd heard Leyla say:

\- Your hair is lighter at the roots. I never noticed it.

Emre raised his head a little – enough to see Leyla's face but not enough to shake off her hand – and said:

\- Well, you are welcome to study my features anytime you want, as long as I get to study yours too.

Leyla dismissed his suggestion with a shrug:

\- Not much to study though...

\- Not true, Leyla. You are one of the most beautiful women I know and today you are completely stunning!

Leyla smiled at the compliment:

\- Thank you, Emre-bey.

Emre shivered, the 'bey' thing reminding him of unsaid words between them. He tried to start simple:

\- Leyla, I love you. I know, I've hurt you a lot, Leyla, but I only ask for a chance to do it right this time. That's who you are to me... the woman I love.

Leyla nodded, her eyes lighting up with happiness. But instead of her own proclamations she said this:

\- Tomorrow I will tell my parents that Osman and I called off our engagement. There is a chance I will be grounded for life and you'll never see me again.

As far as jokes went, this one wasn't as light as Leyla hoped it would be. Emre's entire body tensed by her side and he leaned forward, their faces almost touching. Leyla could feel his warm breath as he asked:

\- You talked? Is this why you were crying earlier?

Leyla nodded:

\- Yes. After we ki... after you left, Osman and I spoke. He's the one who called it off. Osman said that he's too much of a friend to me to let me go on like this... And he also wanted me to tell you that if you upset me, he'd be dealing with you directly.

Emre suggested sheepishly:

\- Somehow, I don't think these were his exact words...

\- Osman may have mentioned chopping off body parts...

\- That's more like it!

Leyla was surprised:

\- You're happy about it?

\- Since I don't plan to upset you ever again, I'm hoping to never endure this punishment, but in theory I agree that it would be a worthy one for such an assault.

\- You sound so... official.

\- Do I? How about now?

Emre touched his lips to Leyla's cheek softly, then to her jawline, to her nose, to her other cheek. His hands traveled up her arms, caressed her bare shoulders briefly and stopped at her neck, positioned perfectly to bring Leyla deeper into his kisses as they became more urgent and less innocent. Leyla's response of soft moans and instinctive arching of her body into his touch was igniting Emre's blood with desire and very primal need.

As he finally kissed her lips – her warm, wet, inviting lips – something shifted in Leyla, some part of her womanhood caught up with the burning and went all in! Her hands shot up to catch his unbuttoned collar and tug Emre closer to her, fingers digging into his neck and following as far down the spine as she could. The buttons of the shirt gave way and Leyla's hands slid down, pushing the collar of the shirt from Emre's shoulders in the process.

Emre couldn't breathe. His body buzzed with anticipation and for the first time in a long time he felt so drunk! As Leyla's hands started to explore his body, her light inexperienced touches issuing way too many promises to his experienced body, he went to do the same – but with his lips. The skin of her neck was so tender and so responsive to his kisses, Leyla's head tilting back to give him more access and her hands holding him locked to her body. Leyla breathed heavily and Emre felt her nipples pebble under the thin fabric of her dress as she pressed into his bare chest. Low growl escaped Emre's throat and he bit down on a sensitive hollow where her vein pulsed in unison with his thundering heart.

Leyla trembled in his hold, her movements being more erratic and hurried, and more invigorating for it! As she brought her hands to his chest, Emre frowned at the loss of contact with the cold silk of her dress – he wasn't missing the fabric but the body underneath it – and his disappointment was short-lived. Because her fingers were doing THINGS to him, erupting fireworks in the back of his head the way he hasn't experienced in a long time!

Emre was confident that woman in his arms was new to being woman... in this way. Leyla was so sincerely needy and openly curious that there was no doubt in his mind that his was the first male body she'd ever touched with desire. And that made her even more seductive and irresistible – if 'more' was even possible at this point of time! Something possessive inside him chanted 'mine! mine! mine!' and getting louder with every whimper escaping Leyla's lips.

And... Leyla may have been new to this, but she was natural! Her nails draw thin red lines as they dug down Emre's chest – and stopped as they accidentally brushed against one of his nipples. He hissed and fisted his hand at the edge of her dress, reining in all of his self-control not to rip that damn thing off and lay her down underneath him in one quick move! Leyla has read his reaction differently:

\- Does it hurt? I'm sor...

\- Don't, Leyla... It's not hurt... it's pleasure.

\- Oh...

Leyla leaned back and took her hands off his chest. Emre stilled giving her a space to figure her next actions out and stop it entirely if she'd felt they went too far.

For a moment it looked like Leyla was going that way, confusion and fear battling with curiosity and desire. Her hand rose and stopped in the air. Leyla looked at Emre, as if asking for something, but he didn't know what it was. But what difference would knowing make? His answer would always be 'yes', whatever the question! Emre nodded, holding his breath, waiting for her to find his body again.

Leyla touched her hand to his chest plate, spreading her fingers wide to cover more of it. Emre's heart leaped to her palm, welcoming. Leyla had twisted her wrist and long fingernails traveled to the side outlining the curve of his peck. They spiraled back to draw circles around his nipple until they brushed across it – this time, intentionally. Emre's eyes closed, all of his senses focusing on this one point of connection, his breathing shallow and uneven.

Leyla's thumb circled the nipple again, and again, alternating pressure and soft caress. Her other hand went up, drawing shapes over Emre's jawline, his neck, his shoulder. Or maybe those were enchanting runes for Emre has never felt so mesmerized with woman's touch in his life!

He felt her drawing closer to him, felt her breath next to his mouth and waited for a kiss. And a kiss came – right at the hollow at the base of his neck. Emre stifled a cry, his eyes shot open – blind, seeing nothing. Leyla's lips traveled up his clavicle to his shoulder and then back up his neck to his ear. She whispered:

\- Is this... pleasure... too?

\- Yesssss... Leyla...

\- I'm listening, Emre-bey.

This time her official tone and respective 'bey' didn't sting him. This time it was... kinky. All of his fantasies about pinning Leyla against the glass wall of his office... undoing her hair and burying his face into her neck to inhale her sweet flowery scent... Emre was beginning to understand Can's obsession with the scent – Leyla smelled divine and possessive side of Emre wanted all of her for himself. To touch, to hold, to be with her, inside her...

Emre shook his head and snapped out of it. He leaned away and stood up. Leyla's expression went confused and then pained. 'Rejection? Not good?' was written all over it as she tried to hide her eyes from him – and Emre dropped to his knees before her again. He held Leyla's hands to his mouth, kissing her fingers one by one.

\- No, Leyla, no! Don't get like that, you did nothing wrong! If anything, you did everything too good... I shouldn't be surprised, really, you're perfect in everything you do...

\- Emre-bey, I don't understand...

Emre kissed her knuckles again and then her palms, her wrists. He hushed her worries:

\- I don't either. Leyla, you make me feel so much and I'm not sure I control all of it. And I'm afraid of hurting you if we go too far too fast. Leyla, I...

\- I don't want to disappoint you, Emre-bey.

Emre stiffened. A wild ugly thought ran through his mind – did he misread her completely? Disappoint him? How much of tonight was Leyla trying to soothe his wounds and how much was her own wishes?

\- Leyla, please, tell me you wanted... this. Please, tell me you didn't come to me for my own sake. I beg you, Leyla.

Leyla nodded; her words solemn. A vow.

\- Yes, Emre-bey, I came here for myself. I stayed for myself. I...

She blushed profusely but didn't look away and said:

\- I touched you and let you touch me because I wanted so. I just don't know if I did it right, I never...

\- Shh, Leyla...

Emre put his finger to her lips momentarily distracted by their pink softness. He then coughed and refocused on his words:

\- Leyla, you are perfect. Amazing! Mind-blowing! I just don't think I can survive it much longer without...

And then unexpected voice – bitter, but warm – broke through Emre's confession from behind them:

\- By all means, brother, do not finish this sentence, I don't need to know any more!

 

_P.S. I was planning on posting this on Monday... but according to the newest preview Emre will propose to Leyla... And I'm just so damn happy about it! So I'd decided to celebrate! Happy LeyEm Day to everybody!_

 


	18. Chapter 18

_Still there… still same people…_

Leyla was contemplating hiding behind the sofa – or falling through the floor. Her logical mind suggested that while her insides were burning up – her outsides were still relatively composed, her dress where it was supposed to be, only few strands of hair loose from her tight updo. Emre, on the other hand, looked thoroughly disheveled – his hair spiking here and there, shirt untucked and hanging open at his elbows, pale red scratches adorning his chest. But even without all of that, the happy and a little smug expression of Emre’s face would still give them away! Men!

Emre turned around and rose to his feet slowly, putting himself between Leyla and Can who was standing at the corridor arch. Can nodded his greetings and dropped his jacket to the chair by the dining table. Emre asked as he was buttoning his shirt:

- How did it go with Sanem?

Leyla peaked from behind Emre’s back also interested to hear the response. Can nodded to her as well and shrugged:

- It didn’t. She was dragged to one conversation or the other and I couldn’t get to her for more than five minutes. I tried calling you, but you didn’t pick up, so I got worried and came to check on you.

Emre looked around and dug his phone from between the sofa cushions where he’d lodged it as he came back home. He checked it and smiled:

- I see you were persistent – seven missed calls! Sorry, I didn’t hear…

- Yeah, I figure!

Can chuckled and Leyla hid behind Emre again. Emre gave his brother a stern look along the lines of ‘don’t you dare embarrass her again!’ to which Can raised his hands in defeat and retreated to the kitchen to fix himself some tea. He hollered:

- Does anyone want anything? Water? Coffee? Cold shower?

Leyla gasped and Emre yelled back:

- Shut up, Can! I really mean it!

Can responded as he came back with a glass of water and a pill that he offered to Emre:

- I’m just trying to be helpful! Here, drink this, it’s for pain.

- I’m not in pain, Can.

Can squeezed Emre’s shoulder and asked again:

- You’re not now but you will be in few hours when adrenaline wears off. Please, drink it. For me?

Emre huffed and shook his head in denial but then he felt feather-like touch to his elbow. His peripheral vision caught Leyla’s big blue eyes as she pleaded with him softly:

- For me?

Emre popped a pill to his mouth and gulped water in one go without further hesitations. Leyla smiled and Can raised an eyebrow. His tone was mocking:

- Well, brother, I see how it is now…

Emre was getting irritated with poorly wailed hints so he did his best to intone his irritation with Can having fun on their expense:

- I’m glad your vision improves! Is there anything else we can do for you? Shouldn’t you be off to bed by now, old age and all?

Hearing that Can didn’t move a muscle, but Leyla suddenly remembered the time and gasped:

- Ay Allah, I have to go home! I really do!

She twirled around to look for her purse but Emre had found it first and gave it to her. When their fingers touched, Leyla stilled for a second to look at him with such tenderness Emre’s heart melted. He didn’t want to let her go just yet. As a last resort to prolong their togetherness, Emre offered:

- Can I drive you home, please?

When Leyla was about to agree to it with the happiest smile, Can’s voice disrupted the idyll:

- Absolutely not! You’re wounded and medicated – you’re not driving today!

- Can, I don’t think any of that is serious enough to consider because…

Leyla pinched in, testing her newfound power to coax Emre into good behavior:

- Emre-bey, I think he’s right. You should rest and go to the hospital tomorrow. Please?

There was absolutely nothing Emre wouldn’t do for these blue eyes that held so many promises of beautiful future in their depth. He sighted:

- Fine, I’ll stay. Call me once you get home?

- Wouldn’t you be sleeping?

- I doubt it very much. Please, call me.

- Of course, Emre-bey.

Can murmured something about starting the car and left the room giving them few precious moments to say their good-byes. Emre touched Leyla’s chin to align their faces and planted the most chaste kiss he could master – anything more would ignite him all over again and they didn’t have a time for it… now. He hugged her closely to him and hid his face at the crook of her neck. Leyla nuzzled closer to his chest and whispered:

- Promise me, I will not wake up from this, Emre-bey.

- I promise it’s not a dream, Leyla. And I promise you’ll trust to call me Emre soon enough.

- I’ll take that promise. Good night, Emre-bey.

- Good night, my Leyla.

And with that Emre let go of Leyla, kissed an inside of her wrist and watched as she left the house. Leyla didn’t turn around once… but Emre knew she was smiling.


	19. Chapter 19

_On the way from home to home…_

Silence was comfortable between them. Can would cast a sideline glance at Leyla and see her smile in that soft saturated way that signified happiness. And by the way his brother looked today when Can came back home, Can knew they were on the way to something really good! Can shook his head in disbelief – sure it took two completely different brothers to fall in love with two completely different sisters! Who would’ve predicted something like this a year ago? Certainly, not Can himself!

But this one… this quiet girl who never ever caused any trouble – according to Sanem – actually managed to challenge his mischievous brother to be good! As much as Sanem did to turn Can towards his family and give Emre second chance – as much Leyla did to bring out the best in Emre.

Can cleared his throat and said with just a hint of constraint:

- Um, Leyla?

- Yes, Can-bey?

- I just wanted… I don’t know how to say it… Umm… I guess, I just wanted to thank you. You know, for my brother.

Leyla’s face froze in confused and even horrified expression. Too late Can understood that his awkward gratitude may have been construed as him thanking her for whatever has happened tonight between Emre and her – Allah forbids, she might think he knows the details! Or that he’s thanking her on Emre’s behalf! In any case, no good!

- Oh, no, Leyla, I meant in general! You know, I can see how Emre changed because of you and I think he’s much happier now and all. I mean…

All of it should have been weird to say out loud… especially to someone he didn’t know that well. But it was Leyla! The most important person for TWO most important people in Can’s life! Somehow, that made it feel just right – to talk to her like this.

- I mean… I’ll always love him, he’s my brother. But I have to admit – I don’t always like him. He can be… He’s a smart guy, really smart, I’m really proud of him.

Leyla nodded in agreement and Can could see how Leyla’s face lit up at this admission. She really cared for his brother! Can continued:

- You know how sometimes he can use his brain to do something…

Can silenced, trying to find a synonym for the word ‘evil’, he really didn’t want to say it. Can prayed to Allah those days were behind them!

Leyla helped:

- … unsavory? Problematic? Shady?

- Yeah, all of it! But I feel like he’d turned over the new leaf when you came into his life. So… umm… thank you!

Leyla smiled and looked at the road ahead of them. Can figured she wasn’t comfortable discussing her role in Emre’s transformation, so he decided to shut up and drive.

Turned out, Leyla was merely thinking over her reply – she did it a lot, he’d noticed, the ‘thinking over’ part. Sanem was different – she’d just say whatever crossed her mind. Leyla’s words were more calculated – but just as sincere. Can believed she was choosing her words carefully to be polite, but not to hide anything.

- Can-bey, if I may… It’s really not my place to give you advice on how to be in your family… Yours is very different from mine, and I know it…

Can scoffed – didn’t he know it too! Their family were poles apart! Aydin family was a crazy close-knit tangle of people – while Divit family faired best when apart. But Can craved the closeness of the family bond, he genuinely wanted to have that – with his brother especially – so if Leyla had any advice on how to get there, he’ll take it:

- By all means, Leyla, please, tell me!

- Can-bey… would you, please, tell Emre-bey what you’d just told me?

- You mean, thank him? But why…

Leyla interjected:

- No, not that! The part where you’re proud of him… and that you think he’s smart… and most importantly – that you love him.

Can’s eyebrows creased and he looked at Leyla in disbelief:

- But why? He knows that already!

Leyla’s words were soft and honest… and hurt a bit:

- He really doesn’t. Emre-bey has been trying to prove himself to your father and to you for all these years. He really needs to know that you think highly of him.

- But I do! Surely, he makes mistakes but that doesn’t mean I stop loving the guy!

Can stumbled on the last words. Just few hours ago Emre has dropped some childhood baggage on him and Can still didn’t have a chance to process it. And now what Leyla was saying… was he the one to blame for Emre’s wrongdoings then?

- You mean, he did all of it…

Leyla laughed a small sad laugh:

- No, Can-bey, nothing like that! Emre-bey can be stubborn and sometimes gets lost on his way to his goals… and sometimes he allows other people to turn him the wrong way…

They didn’t say it but the looks they’d exchanged said ‘Aylin’. Can nodded and Leyla sighted and continued:

- But I do think he values your opinion of him very much…

- Wow, thanks, Leyla! Never thought about it this way! You sure do know a lot about Emre!

Leyla shied away from the praise and simply said:

- Not so much about him but about the way siblings are. I am an older sister, after all. I’ve seen the way Sanem looks at me every time mother says ‘be more like Leyla’, you know? More serious, more collected, more respectful and all that…

Leyla chuckled, remembering something:

- One time, after school year end, we’d both brought our report cards home. Mother threw a fit because Sanem got some bad grades that year… well, not bad really, but not as good as mine. Next day I’d found my favorite pair of jeans riddled with holes!

- No way! Did she really?!

- She really did! The funniest part is – she wasn’t trying to destroy my jeans! She was trying to make them like hers, so we’d have something in common! Surely, mother didn’t see it that way… but I did.

Can shook his head:

- Yes, Sanem would apply this logic. She’s weird like that.

Leyla’s expression softened into palpable tenderness:

- Yes, she is. Sanem is amazing and passionate and wears her heart on her sleeve. She’s not like me, but I love her, and I like her very much!

Can did not respond to that. A million thoughts swirled through his mind – about Sanem, about Emre, about their family, about Sanem again. She was amazing, wasn’t she? Creative, beautiful, one of a kind Sanem.

Can looked at the road and realized they were almost there, at Sanem’s neighborhood. He still had time to ask Leyla something… something he wanted to ask her a long time already. Hoping that their new bond will grant him the answers, Can went for it:

- Leyla… can I ask you something? It’s about Sanem.

Leyla stiffened a bit and pressed her lips tight in unconscious effort to keep that subject closed. Can realized that he may have been Emre’s older brother… but to Leyla he was first and foremost the man who broke her sister’s heart… and this is where her ultimate loyalty lays. Weirdly, Can was glad Sanem had somebody to protect her so defiantly, even if it was against him.

After a moment, Leyla, however, surprised him:

- Can-bey, I can’t tell you much… because there isn’t much to tell. Sanem… shut off when you left. I’d never seen her like that. She didn’t even speak to me – and we used to talk about everything in the world!

Pain broke through Layla’s voice, her eyes filled with accusations and Can knew fully well he’d deserved them. However, that wasn’t the question he wanted to ask. His was more… intimate than that. At least, to him.

- I know, Leyla, I did wrong. I’m trying to fix it, believe me. I just… I need to understand.

- Understand what, Can-bey?

Can was about to speak and then thought better of it. He pulled over and turned to Leyla to look at her directly:

- I hope you don’t mind we’d stopped. We’re really close to your house and I hope we can finish this conversation before we arrive. I need to know.

Leyla nodded and shifted in her seat to get more comfortable. She asked again:

- Need to know what, Can-bey?

- That… do you know the story of Albatross?

Leyla bit her lip to hide a smile – her sister and impossibly romantic dreams of her. But she’d nodded:

- Yes, I know you are the Albatross, Can-bey.

- And you know how I recognized Sanem by her… scent?

It felt incredibly intimate to ask such things, as if he was discussing something that was supposed to be just between Sanem and him. But that was the point of discussion, wasn’t it? That her scent wasn’t their private thing!

Leyla was unphased by Can’s discomfort:

- Yes, and? Sanem does many perfumes for herself, she did one for me too…

- But… that one was supposed to be between us two. Why… why did she give it to Fabri? She knew how much I cherished it, damn it!

Can tried to be composed, he really did! But the pain of betrayal broke through his calm façade and bubbled to the surface with angry scream. Leyla, on the other hand, didn’t flinch or even acknowledged Can’s outburst. Hers were the words of reason:

- She had no other option. Fabri-bey convinced her you’d be rotting in jail for assaulting him if she didn’t give him that scent. Sanem tried to get the best out of that situation and made Fabri-bey to give away his shares of Fikri Harika so we could take on Redmode campaign.

- You talk like Emre, all logic and business. But that was a matter of the heart and…

Leyla’s voice rose an octave and gained a metal tint:

- Oh no, Can-bey, don’t you dare to twist it like that! For Sanem it was absolutely the matter of the heart – to get you out of jail. If asked, she’d give the heart itself! Or any other piece of herself!

- But she did! Sanem gave her scent to that man! He wanted her and he got her!

- What?! What did you just say, Can-bey?

For a second there Can got scared. This woman who was half his size and third of his weight looked like she was about to bite his head off! Suddenly, Can could see that Aydin sisters were very much alike, especially when protecting someone they love. Leyla nearly shouted:

- Can-bey, that perfume is not a part of Sanem, it is OF Sanem! Something she’d created for herself and can choose to do whatever she pleases with it! She can gift it, sell it, lose it, forget about it! It’s hers!

Can went into defensive mode – he still felt there was some truth to his emotions about Sanem’s betrayal even though the ground underneath that idea started to shake.

- Sanem knew what that scent meant to me! She should have trusted me to deal with Fabri myself!

- Why? Because you are a man, right? Because you have to solve everything by yourself and Allah forbid a mare woman would save you!

- No, it’s not like that! But the scent…

- Ooff! That scent! Is it more important than her face then? Or her heart? Because you’d used the first and broke the second… but the scent is sacred, right?

Can didn’t debate that he’d broken Sanem’s heart… but when was the first one?

- When did I ever use Sanem?

- Didn’t you publish her face on billboards all over the city?

- Ah, that… That was for charity…

- Still her face, isn’t it? Sanem is not professional model, not used to it! Did you know that boys in our neighborhood made fun of her? Asking Sanem to teach them construction tools when she doesn’t even know how to hold them properly?

- Did they?

- They did, before their mothers gave them proper trashing! But Sanem didn’t even mind, she just shrugged it off. You know what she said?

- What?

- She said ‘It’s not me, it’s something of mine. I use it when I need it.’

Can blinked once, twice, gulped with difficulty because his throat suddenly went dry… Leyla nodded to his reaction:

- Yes, Can-bey. Perfumes Sanem creates, slogans she writes, stories she will one day publish – that’s all hers. If she ever gifted one to you, you can be sure it will only be yours, like she won’t ever sell the scent she’d made for me. But everything else – that’s hers.

Can thought back to the scent Sanem had made for him. And all the others he’d seen in her room that Sanem named after places that were special for them. And how the only scent that weren’t theirs, that predated ‘them’ was Sanem’s scent. Not his, not theirs… just hers.

Leyla touched Can’s sleeve to bring him back from deep thought and said:

- Can-bey, Sanem is creative. She is many things, but the first one is that – her imagination can be seen in everything she does! But you can’t keep her creations all to yourself, she’ll choke. Please, don’t do that to her.

Can was surprised – Leyla actually pleaded with him! Was he really that type of possessive monster so that Leyla had to protect her little sister from him? Him?!

Can said:

- Thank you, Leyla. I’ll think about it. I’ll be good to her, I promise.

Leyla tilted her head and looked at him attentively. Probably, having found what she was looking for, Leyla suggested:

- Maybe, we should go then? Parents will be home soon, and I don’t want them to worry about us.

- Why aren’t they home yet?

Can looked at the dashboard where clock announced a very late hours of the night – or very early hours of the morning, depending on how you look at it. Leyla explained:

- They were off to Ankara for our cousin’s wedding, Sanem and I stayed back for the book opening. Their flight should be landing in few hours and we should be home by then or else…

Can started the car immediately. He knew what strict parents Mevkibe and Nihat could be, was at the receiving end of their regulation too many times already.

Ten minutes later Can’s car stopped in front Aydin house. There was no light to be seen anywhere so Sanem was probably asleep already. Leyla got out of the car and as she walked around it to her door, Can lowered the window. Leyla turned around and said:

- Good night, Can-bey!

- Good night, Leyla! And… thank you!

She smiled:

- You said it already, Can-bey…

He thought back to the beginning of their conversation in the car and responded:

- Yes, that. But not only. Thank you for everything!

Leyla nodded with understanding. She looked up to Sanem’s dark windows, then back at Can, and said:

- You’re welcome. Hope you can fix it!

- Hope so too! Good night!

And as Leyla entered her house and closed the door behind her, Can took his phone from his pocket. He dialed Emre and his brother picked up immediately. His tone was a bit disappointed – Emre was expecting another call. Can tried to make it quick, in case Leyla would call too.

- Hey, wanted to let you know Leyla is home safe. How is your hand?

Emre completely ignored the last question and asked instead:

- It took you a while to get there, I was getting worried! Did you get lost or something?

- No, we… we stopped to talk.

There was a moment of silence, them Emre said:

- About?

- A lot of things.

- You know I can ask her, Can.

Can chuckled at the obvious threat in Emre’s voice but he wasn’t worried:

- If I thought Leyla would tell you, I’d tell you myself. But she won’t.

- Won’t she now? Since when do you… Oh, man, I’ll call you back!

And the call disconnected. Can figured that Leyla must’ve called Emre after all which made Emre drop his brother’s call so unceremoniously. Can looked at the black screen where his brother’s name just was and said ‘Marry her’.

Can put his phone down and started his car. When he was almost at the corner, Can noticed in a rearview mirror that taxi stopped in front of Sanem’s house. Can stopped the car and got out to check the arriving party – it was too early for Aydin parents to come back and too late for guests. But it wasn’t a guest – it was Sanem who got out of the car. She thanked the driver and looked up to house windows. Leyla’s windows were lit and Sanem’s shoulders slouched with relief. She rolled her head to relax stiff neck muscles and fumbled with her purse searching for keys.

And then she saw him. Sanem stilled and looked at him as Can approached, neither of them dropping eye contact.

Can came closer and Sanem didn’t move away. Feeling brave, Can asked:

- Are you tired? Or can we still talk?

 

 

_P.S. In case you were wondering if this chapter seemed very long - it is, the longest chapter yet (not the longest overall though)._

_P.P.S. Can and Leyla, right? Who knew?_


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To commemorate the one month anniversary of me writing this story, I'll be posting two chapters today =) But also, because these two chapters make more sense together than few days apart. And though this story started with CanEm and these two chapters are CanEm too (as well as the next two chapters) - this is purely a coincidence, I wasn't planning this anniversary 'loop'.
> 
> Another author's note: I'd be stepping away from this story for few days to write a ficlet about LeyEm, their honeymoon and whatever else I feel is missing from yesterday's LeyEm episode (and you can pry that title from my dead hands! it WAS LeyEm episode, first in 37 episodes, and there are no two ways about it!). The story would be posted sometimes this week (not sure when, the story is still blooming inside me, haven't written itself yet) but before the next episode (just in case they will show some of LeyEm honeymoon and I don't want to knowingly contradict the canon here).
> 
> After that I'll be coming back to this story, I have 14 more chapters to write, we'll see how it goes =)

_Aydin house..._

Sanem has led Can upstairs to her room, briefly stopping by Leyla’s room to tell her she’s back home. By the way Leyla’s eyes rounded at the sight of Can behind Sanem’s back, he knew she wasn’t pleased with his presence. No matter how much rapport they’d built recently, Leyla was still not a fan of him being with Sanem in her room. At night. Alone.

Can nodded as if answering some unspoken question and Leyla nodded back. Leyla then whispered something to Sanem’s ear and got back to her phone conversation – Can assumed it was still with Emre. Lucky bastard! His beloved WANTED to talk with him!

While Can’s beloved stood in the middle of her room looking everywhere but him. Can thought she looked angrier than before and couldn’t figure out what could he possibly have done in the last few minutes until Sanem sighted and raised her head.

\- She was right! It’s a mess… Sorry…

\- Mess? What are you sorry about? Bi tanem, I don’t…

Sanem made a circular motion around her with her hand and repeated:

\- This mess. I didn’t think about it when I’d invited you up. I’m sorry.

Can’s expression was confused for a moment – and then he roared with laughter making Sanem jump at the sudden sound. Leyla’s voice, muffled by the wall between the rooms, shushed them with something that echoed like ‘Behave!’

Can clasped his hand to his mouth to silence the offending sounds. Whenhe was able to speak, he whispered:

\- Sanem, of all the things I thought you’d be upset right now, this was not even on the list!

Sanem was busy tiding up the room that looked like… well, like two women were getting ready for the big evening! She was throwing garments and bags of make-up into the wardrobe and in record time the room looked almost the same as the first time he’d been here. Sanem went to rearrange the cushions on her bed – probably, to offer it for them to sit down. Something fell out from the bed and Sanem bent down to grab it immediately. Can wouldn’t think of it twice if it weren’t for the quick glance she’d sent his way and the way she hid the recovered item behind her back. Sanem’s expression was a mix of protectiveness and guilt as she was backing away from him to her mirror stand. Can stopped her with a request:

\- Canim, whatever it is, you don’t have to hide it from me.

Sanem shook her head in defiance – she wasn’t going to reveal her secrets that easily! Can challenged her:

\- I can try and see it for myself…

\- Don’t you dare, Can Divit!

There was an unusual pitch to Sanem’s voice, something hard and dangerous – she was going to protect whatever she was hiding at all cost! Can tried another approach:

\- Sanem, please, will you show it to me? I promise, I’m not going to laugh or anything… I just want to know…

Can assumed it was something embarrassing, along the lines of a messy room. He was right – to an extent. When Sanem inhaled deeply and opened her palm to him, Can feezed mid-sentence. It was the amber necklace. The one he gave her for her birthday. She’d kept it.

For some reason, when Can was thinking about Sanem during this last month… about how she would react to him leaving… he always imagined that the necklace would go first. The way he’d burned her photographs before – the same way Sanem would get rid of memories of him. But she didn’t. She’d kept it.

Can stepped in closer and closer, until his big frame was as close to Sanem as physically possible without touching. Sanem tried to squirm out to the side but Can raised both his hands and effectively locked Sanem in the cage of his body. Accidently – or maybe not – Can touched the light switch and room went dark, lit only by diffused light of street lamps and moonshine seeping in through the window shades.

Sanem gasped at his approach – or maybe at his proximity and wafts of heat emanating from Can. Not that she didn’t recognize the feeling – but she knew all too well what usually followed next. That sweet haze of his strong body wrapped around her, his lips relishing hers with abandon, his heavy breathing drowning out all the other sounds in the world… Sanem wanted all of that! But… there was a ‘but’…

\- Can… I can’t…

\- Shh… Just stand still, like this… in the darkness. Darkness has always been our friend.

Can closed his eyes and allowed himself to get lost in her scent, in the sound of her breathing, in the privilege of her presence. Not having her was getting too much for Can and he didn’t know how long he’d be able to take it.

\- I swear – sometimes it feels like I’m flying… and sometimes – like I’m falling… And I don’t care about flying if I’m alone… and I don’t mind falling if it’s with you.

He raised his hand to touch a strand of hair that has escaped her elaborate hairdo and then laid it over her collarbone. The touch was so soft, felt life a caress. Sanem sighted in content and for a moment there she pretended there was nothing else to think about but him… Why couldn’t she have it, just for now? A perfect little oasis in the midst of all their problems and issues and storms…

Sanem didn’t register if she’d given him some sign… or maybe Can wasn’t waiting for one. Just some broken links inside them finally connected and tied them into one messy and passionate knot of kisses and touches and sighs and endless thirst for each other. Can was kissing Sanem like his life depended on it – and at that moment it did! Depended on her breathing her moans into his mouth, grabbing his hair and pulling him closer to her, palming his chest through a thin fabric of his shirt. Can felt his skin ignite everywhere Sanem’s touch landed on his body – and everywhere his body yearned to connect with hers.

Can tore himself away from Sanem, drinking in the sight of her moon-lit beauty, her heavy lids razing and falling slowly in unison with her breathing while Sanem tried to come down from passion-induced high. Can’s male ego ballooned with irrational pride that he was the only one who could see her like this, who could MAKE her like this!

Sanem looked up and said:

\- What’s up with you and darkness? Do you always have to kiss when it’s dark?

Can chuckled – Sanem was trying to pick up a fight with him to compensate for her self-appointed embarrassment. Personally, Can couldn’t be more proud of this evening but if Sanem was stubborn enough to try and negate all of what happened between them just now – he was stubborn enough to counter… with love:

\- Only when it’s you… and your lips… and your scent…

Sanem grunted:

\- Again with the scent! Why do you…

There were many ways that question could go. But Can wasn’t destined to find it out because loud noise from the first floor followed by hushed quarrel broke through their conversation. Sanem’s eyes shot wide open with fear and she whispered in a hushed terrified voice:

\- My parents are home.

Can – confident, successful and respected grown-up man – considered hiding under the bed in a girl’s room for the first time in his life. But quick assessment of said bed confirmed that he would never fit. As is, he was simply standing in the middle of a girl’s room. At night. In the darkness. And they were alone.


	21. Chapter 21

_In Sanem’s room…_

Sanem ran downstairs and left Can in the room with a strict order to stay put and stay silent. Can heard Leyla joining Sanem on the stairs as they’d discussed what their version of tonight would be.

Judging by the noises from downstairs – and it was surprisingly easy to listen in due to Aydin family being their usual loud themselves – Sanem’s parents came back earlier because their flight got rescheduled in the last minute and they barely caught the plane in time. Can tried tuning out their recounting of wedding events since he knew none of the participants – he only understood that wedding was a success and the groom is ‘a good boy with a decent job’.

Mevkibe-hanim asked why the girls were still wearing their gowns and Leyla supplied that they were waiting for their parents to show them their evening looks, because tomorrow the dresses would go back to the rental shop. Mevkibe-hanim approved of Leyla’s dress and quipped that Sanem should’ve chosen a more toned down red because this one was too flashy. ‘I say!’, Can thought to himself remembering how Sanem outshone every woman in the room today.

As Mevkibe-hanim continued with her story about some aunties and cousins and what not, Can moved silently across the room to Sanem’s nightstand. He remembered from his previous visit to Sanem’s room that it was where Sanem kept her perfumed creams – and curiosity took better of him. He smelled the creams one by one, remembering the events from their past lives even without looking at the labels – timber with flowery undertones and a hint of spice for their adventure in the woods, breezy and a bit salty for their camping trip… One cream wasn’t labeled at all, but Can would recognize it anywhere – it was her scent, their Albatross Night scent, their special scent… the one which she’d given to Fabri…

But then again… as Can inhaled it deeper and deeper trying to get his fill of that special sensation… he recognized that aroma – though exquisite and delicious – wasn’t quite the same. On Sanem it felt somehow more sensual and deeper.

Did she change the formula? But no, the jar was half full so it was the one Sanem was using today – and Can knew from earlier that she’d smelled divine, as always. But then… Something dawned on Can in an infinite moment of life-altering realization – it was the right perfume, just not all of it! Her special ‘Sanem scent’ – their special scent – was actually a combination of her perfumed cream and herself, her natural scent! That’s why Fabri couldn’t recreate it, even with Sanem’s help and the formula she gave him! Because the most vital ingredient was missing – Sanem herself!

Sanem… Can wondered briefly how Sanem smells without the perfume… right after the shower, with her skin still warm and hair wet… in the small steamed up bathroom…

Stop it! Can had to reprimand himself for the direction his thoughts were taking just thinking about Sanem… He was in a girl’s room, Allah-Allah!

Can set on the bed because a series of further realizations was hitting him hard and he wasn’t sure he can stand up through it. His anger for her giving Fabri ‘their scent’ was misplaced, his words to Sanem about ‘betraying them’ were for nothing… he literally sent his life spiraling downhill for something he didn’t own and haven’t lost after all! That is, if he manages to not lose Sanem…

New set of softer voices took over Can’s attention as Aydin daughters were telling their parents about book launch event. Can noticed that Leyla chose not to tell anyone about her visit to Emre tonight and smiled to himself – there was something with these girls and all the secrecy around their love life. But then again Sanem also didn’t start with ‘hey! there’s a man in my room!’ so it was an understandable omission.

At some point Mevkibe-hanim asked if ‘Divit devil twins’ were at the event – whom Can assumed were him and his brother. Sanem responded positively and her mother went into prolonged tirade on how good it was that both her daughters got out of ‘that agency’ – which she said like a curse word – and got a chance to work normally without unnecessary distractions – again, Can assumed it was about him and Emre. Mevkibe-hanim sounded so happy – and a bit tipsy – that her older daughter was getting married to the nice boy Osman which would put her life on the right track… To that, Can highly doubted the candidacy of the groom provided what he’d interrupted before…

Maybe it was fresh wedding memories… or maybe it was always on Mevkibe’s mind… but her conversation turned to Sanem… and Can’s heart deadpanned into his boots when he’d realized that Sanem’s mother was pushing Sanem to ‘give Yigit a chance’ and ‘settle down’. Can had almost forgotten about Polen’s brother, he was so focused on Omer!

Can listened to Sanem’s response very attentively, he even crack-opened the door to make sure he’d catch all of what Sanem had to say on that crucial matter. To his relief, Sanem didn’t sound fond of the idea. Can thought back to her refusal few months back and a wild impossible thought crossed his mind – did Sanem plan to get married… ever? Not such a big fan of the institution either, Can was genuinely surprised that Sanem may be even less traditional than him in this aspect. But it can’t be, can it?

Suddenly, there was a ruffle downstairs and voices moving around the house. Sounded much like everyone was going to their rooms to get ready for bed. Can stepped away from the door and waited patiently for Sanem to come it, hoping that her parents won’t tag along for one more marriage discussion.

To Can’s relief, Sanem showed by herself, saying her last ‘good night’ to Leyla in the corridor. She looked tired and Can regretted coming with her tonight – if it wasn’t for him, Sanem would’ve been in bed by now, sleeping, resting.

But before he could stop himself, these words flew off his mouth:

\- Are you not planning to get married at all?

Sanem looked at him in surprise and clasped her hand over her mouth to silence the gasp. She looked at the door and back at Can:

\- Were you listening?

Her words were an accusation and even though deep down Can knew he’d intruded, his surface persona got defensive:

\- I didn’t mean to, but your mother has some lungs on her, it was impossible NOT to listen!

Sanem sighted and her shoulders slouched in defeat – he was right, mother was a bit too loud today, probably from excess of a loud music earlier. Sanem shook her head:

\- No, I do plan to get married. Once I find somebody I can’t live without.

Can swallowed with difficulty – he was the one Sanem was meant to find, he knew that, she knew that, but the same way he denied it before, she was denying it now. Can felt like grabbing her and screaming on the top of his lunges ‘It’s me! I’m here!’ but that would probably awake quieted down house and Sanem wouldn’t like it at all.

From inability to express his feelings bitterness was born – Can responded with sarcasm:

\- Please, don’t tell me that Yigit is the one you’re considering for a husband!

Sanem raised her chin in defiance:

\- Why do you keep bringing him up like this? Yigit is just a friend!

Can thought to himself that he’d seen that ‘friend’ look at Sanem and it wasn’t friendship that Yigit had on his mind – but Can didn’t say it out loud. Instead Can asked:

\- A ‘special friend’?

Sanem looked at Can and so much sadness crossed her gaze that Can almost choked on his inhale. Sanem said very quietly:

\- I only had ‘a special friend’ once in my life – or twice, depending how to count our breaks and stopovers, and if the second time counts as a new friendship or continuation of the old one…

She was blabbering, she was nervous. Can came closer, his body moving instinctively to shield her away from pain – but she stepped away. Can was the pain. Sanem looked away and said:

\- That special friend left me… and I’m not sure if he came back for good… or only until the next thunderstorm.

Can stepped up again, his eyes burning with conviction and remorse, he felt like crying and swearing simultaneously! He tried assuring her:

\- Canim, I did come back for good, I…

\- No, that’s not enough. Can…

Sanem looked around and Can followed her gaze as it fell on albatross pictures, half-closed wardrobe, dimly-lit nightstand… Having found something inside herself, Sanem turned to face Can:

\- It’s not enough for me. Can, I want you to stay, to be with you – only if you can be with me without trying to own me, to claim everything I do, everything I want to share with the world… I want to be friends with people I like… Can you be with me like that?

Can held her gaze for a while and then his head fell. He didn’t know if he could do that. Sanem whispered ‘When fighting with storm don’t count the chances of winning. Count the running’. Can asked:

\- What?

\- Nothing, it’s from Omer’s new book.

Can’s jealousy flared up at the mention. The hero of the day, the genius at Sanem’s hand, perfect writer Omer!

\- Another ‘special friend’, Sanem? You seem to be inseparable with the guy!

Sanem hissed through clenched teeth, trying to contain her voice:

\- Leave. Please, leave and don’t come back until you learn how to respect my wishes and my friends!

Can nodded sharply and left her room. By some miracle he didn’t meet anyone in the house – Sanem’s parents were probably fast asleep. When starting the car, Can looked back to Aydin’s residence and realized that not only he did not accomplish his goal for today – he’d made situation worse. Ah, Can, Ah!


	22. Chapter 22

_The next day…_

Sanem threw papers in the box with vigilance, half the time she was missing the box and scattering them all over the floor – but she didn’t care! She murmured something to herself but not audible enough to be heard by her colleagues at the next table.

Omer peaked from behind the partition and silently studied Sanem’s furious activities for a while. Some pages landed at his feet and Omer picked them up out of curiosity – Sanem didn’t even notice him.

Seeing what pages those were, Omer frowned and asked:

\- Sanem, what was wrong with these pages to deserve such a treatment?

Sanem jumped out of surprise and then landed on her chair like a deflated balloon:

\- Oh, it’s you…

Omer raised an eyebrow and asked in amused tone:

\- I’m not sure if I hear relief or disappointment? Expecting somebody other than me?

Sanem looked around with hunted expression and nodded:

\- Yeah… There’s this…

Omer stopped her:

\- Shhh… If I’m about to hear your dramatic love story, we’d better get out of here and find someplace with more walls…, - he looked around and eyed Sanem pointedly, - or less ears.

Sanem nodded and jumped up again, grabbing her purse in the process. She managed to flip over the box and all the papers that did manage to land into it, cascaded down to the floor. Sanem grunted and fell to her knees:

\- Allah is trying me today!

Omer squatted and started picking up fallen pages – and he was much more effective in this because Sanem was more interesting in lamenting about her unfortunes today than fixing the mess. Once everything was placed in the box neatly, both Sanem and Omer stood up and looked at each other. Without a single word they both understood where they were heading. To the park.

_At the park… two hours later…_

\- You see, I don’t know what to do!

Sanem threw up her hands in the gesture of despair and Omer caught one of them and squeezed in reassurance. He said softly:

\- It’s ok, Sanem, he will figure everything out and come back. Otherwise he just doesn’t deserve you!

Sanem looked at Omer in surprise – not many people would think Can Divit to be ‘undeserving of attention’, he had so much persona about him. But Omer wasn’t moved by any of it, apparently, as he continue:

\- Men can be like that sometimes…

Sanem squinted her eyes at Omer with easily readable ‘really?!’ on her face. Omer continued, unmoved by her judgment:

\- I’m not justifying him, just explaining. It doesn’t mean he should be allowed to be like that just because he’s a man. We are weak creatures with fragile egos and no-existent self-control – but we can learn, I promise. If he’s half as intelligent as you give him credit for – he’ll learn!

Sanem sighted – something in her doubted Can’s willingness to learn for her sake:

\- Maybe, I’m not worth the trouble…

\- You absolutely are! Sanem! You are worth every trouble in the world and don’t let anyone to feel otherwise!

Sanem smiled – Omer was a good friend indeed! One she’d found only recently but already invited to her heart and soul. Omer was smart and witty and kind and a good listener. And these days Sanem needed all of those things so much!

Sanem scooched closer to Omer and laid her head on his shoulder. She sighted contentedly, some tension finally leaving her body. Omer smiled at that:

\- You know, you are very lucky that I decided to sign up with you, otherwise who’d put out all the fires you cause?

Sanem’s mood wasn’t that improved to let this one slide and she’d answered bitterly:

\- Applause all around, take the cookie!

Omer looked at her, taken aback:

\- Sanem, what… I didn’t…

Sanem caught herself before he could finish – she threw her arms around him in tight embrace. Her voice was remorseful, pleading:

\- I’m so sorry, Omer, forgive me! I shouldn’t have said that! You are being a great friend and I behave like a child.

\- You’re hurt, I understand.

\- But it shouldn’t excuse me, right?

Omer chuckled – she did remember what they spoke of before. He nodded:

\- Yes, the fact that you’re hurting doesn’t excuse you acting like a brat. But you did apologize just now, and I forgive you.

Omer shifted on the bench and moved his shoulders in a silent hint that Sanem should loosen her embrace. That didn’t help so he said:

\- Sanem, canim, I’m not a bamboo tree and you’re not koala to be clinging me for your dear life. You’ll give me bruises!

Sanem released him as soon as she’d heard ‘koala’ and Omer made a mental note to ask her about it later. There was some interesting story behind that reaction, surely, and as an author Omer was always on the hunt for interesting stories.

Omer took out a chocolate bar from his shirt pocket and offered it to Sanem. She’d accepted with eagerness and almost swallowed it whole before she looked at Omer with delayed gratitude. Her voice came out muffled as she was still chewing sugary treat:

\- You are a life saver, Omer! Deniz is so lucky to have you!

He smiled genuinely, happily:

\- I hope Deniz agrees with you…

\- I’m sure, Deniz agrees! You two are so perfect for each other! Tell Deniz to come visit soon!

Sanem chatted animatedly, hands flowing in the air, and Omer chuckled:

\- So, feeling better now? Ready to get back and do some work? Because, as chivalrous it is of me, I didn’t come today only to serve as your confidant – we do have some deadlines to keep, don’t we?

Sanem got up and turned around when she was few steps away from the bench:

\- I race you to the office!

And with that she sprinted away, making Omer to follow her laughter flowing over the park.

_Back at the Fikri Harika office… well, not actually… at the stairs leading up to Fikri Harika office…_

Can wasn’t himself since he saw Sanem and Omer going down the stairs and leaving the building. He was working up the courage and looking for words to go to Sanem and apologize for yesterday’s fiasco of a conversation – and had to look as she slipped through his fingers and left with that Mister Just A Friend of hers!

And it wasn’t one of their ‘work-in-the-park’ things because Sanem didn’t carry anything with her but her purse, and Omer was empty-handed! So, it was not work-related, and Can was driving himself mad trying to come up with plausible explanation for their outing which did not involve the word ‘date’ in it. And it wasn’t just their ‘empty-handedness’ that got Can all riled up – Sanem giggled! She never giggled with anyone beside him! But Omer said something to her ear – and she’d giggled, clasped a hand over her mouth and giggled some more into her palm! No matter how talented that guy was, he wasn’t supposed to be that funny! He was romance novelist, Allah mia, not a stand-up comedian!

Whoever Omer was, he was also too close and personal to Sanem. As they’d exited the building, he’d offered Sanem his bent arm and she’d took it and they’d continued like this somewhere Can’s gaze couldn’t follow.

And so, he was left standing the, at the top of the stairs, waiting for them to return. Accessing the time they’d spent outside… thinking of possible scenarios of what they could be doing… hoping it was something innocent and friendly… fearing it wasn’t.

When Sanem and Omer flew into the building, Omer running into Sanem at full speed and knocking them both off their feet, Can’s first reaction was to run down and help Sanem. But Omer was already there, doing already that – he picked her up, brushed off something invisible off her hair and sprinted up the stairs to the publishing house. Sanem screamed “Hey, not fair!” and sprinted after him. Happy, laughing, enjoying life – so not like Sanem he’d left yesterday. Apparently, Omer gave her something Can couldn’t.

He dropped his head in defeat and turned towards his office. Today was going to be a long day, and he will dedicate it to hating that smooth-talking bright-smiling nauseatingly-perfect Omer-bey, wherever he is!

Except that after half an hour of seizing with anger Can found that Omer wasn’t even that far away. Not even in the publishing house downstairs… No, Omer came straight into Can’s office without knocking, locked the door behind him and dropped at one of the chairs. Tapped his fingers over the glass surface of Can’s table and said:

\- I think we should talk.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I know I said I'll continue with this story once I finish my LeyEm fic (and I'm not done with that one yet) but I needed to draw you in, guys, to show you my new cover, made by erkenciedits from Tumblr =) Isn't it pretty, right?! I love it =))))  
> 2\. As mentioned above, I do write my LeyEm fic, five chapters in, another one coming tomorrow (I just don't have as much time to write over weekends as I do during on working days). If you like LeyEm, you'll probably like 'And the winner is...' =) It's AU past episode 37 but you'll see I'd guessed quite a lot of themes from today's episode and so it's not too far off the handle =)   
> 3\. LeyEm fan's rant: we all knew that we won't get to see LeyEm's first time - Turkish TV limitations and all... but the whole sequence 'first day at home as married couple - romantic dinner - kiss - fade to black - scene with yigit'... really? Really? Don't we deserve to see LeyEM in one room ALONE? No siblings, no mother, no pianist in the background! I want to see honeymoon LeyEm stat! But I won't, because there's drama, there's always some drama... Instead of brewing with disappointment and bitterness over such unfairness, I said 'whatever, my imagination works just fine!' and wrote LeyEm's first time myself, thank you very much!   
> 4\. This last episode was a major FU from the writer who is leaving because Can's behavior was abhorrent at best (except for when he was with Emre, those bits I liked, supportive big brother and all). CanEm fandom, I feel you, that was hard to watch! And I realize that Can I'm writing also does not-so-pretty things BUT! I do that to teach him a lesson and I promise that by chapter 37 he'll get everything in order, not brake it apart AGAIN!


	23. Chapter 23

_In Can’s office…_

Can looked around, half-expecting all of it to be some elaborate prank… but by whom? Handful of people even knew what Omer was to Can, other than Sanem’s new author… And by the looks his employees gave Can when they’d notice Omer in his office, they didn’t expect anything out of the ordinary from this meeting.

Can didn’t know what to expect either – it’s not everyday that your direct rival shows up to your office with some discussion in mind! Not that Can had many rivals before, come to think of it… Not before he met Sanem who seemed to charm every eligible bachelor in the vicinity!

Omer kept tapping his fingers over Can’s table – rather irritative sound – and looked around Can’s office. When he locked eyes with Can’s Istanbul Photo Awards Diploma, he raised his eyebrows and bowed his head towards Can as a sign of respect. Having completed his cursory overview of Can’s office, he spoke:

\- Can-bey, I believe we have a matter to discuss. Namely, Sanem.

Can was about to enter his remarks on the subject and how Omer has no business talking about Sanem but Omer raised his hand to silence Can – who didn’t silence because of the gesture, but because of the audacity on this man! To shut him up when talking about his Sanem in his office!

Omer paid no attention to the virtual fumes coming out of Can’s ears and continued:

\- I’ll mostly talk, you’ll mostly listen. I simply don’t have too much time, Sanem expects me to come back from ‘business lunch’, - he’d made air quotes on these words, - in one hour and she shouldn’t know I’m here!

He looked behind him through the glass door and noticed people giving him shy nods as if they weren’t sure Omer would recognize them. Omer nodded back, dimly remembering Sanem’s introductions of literally every worker in Fikri Harika in the past few weeks. He turned back to Can:

\- Yeah, it will be a miracle if she doesn’t storm in here demanding me to leave! And she’ll give me an earful once she found out I came!

All of this commentary on Sanem was given with so much love and tenderness… Can’s heart felt tight in his chest… This man in front of him loved Sanem, cherished her, knew her! Did he come to tell Can to back off?

As an answer to his inner fears, Omer said:

\- Ok, Can-bey, here’s the thing! I need you to get your shit together and fix it with Sanem! Or else my editor – and a very good friend – will drive herself nuts with all the hyper emotions… And I will not let you do this to her!

That last part was a threat and for a second there polished fleur of romantic author flew off Omer and something feral crossed his eyes. Can had seen this expression before, in wild cats… turns out this man who’d always purred something to Sanem’s ear could also roar! Who knew?!

Can leaned over the table and rested his chin at his fists. Omer was not playing by the scenario Can had envisioned – then what he was playing at?

\- Omer, I don’t under…

\- Oh, we’re on the first name basis now, are we? All right, then, I’ll explain, Can! Sanem is a beautiful, sensitive, stubborn and enthusiastic miracle of a girl! And if you don’t get your game sorted out, you will be out of the field in no time!

Can rose from his seat, towering over Omer who didn’t move a muscle at this obvious show of power by Can. Can went for the verbal assault:

\- Are you the one who’s gonna knock me off the field? I’d seen you cozying up to her! And I don’t like it one bit! I can be very scary too!

Omer was as nonchalant as it was humanly impossible in this situation – he was almost bored while Can breathed fire over him. Once Can stopped to catch a breath, it was Omer’s turn – he rose from his seat too and leaned in to look Can in the eyes, his height and broad shoulders more than enough to be just as intimidating. Anger flared in Omer’s eyes:

\- Can, spare me the peacock dance, I’m not amused by any of it. I’m not out for your girl, at least, not in that sense. But she IS dear to me and your stupidity and overall inflated male ego is hurting her which I will not allow for!

Can stepped back out of surprise – both at Omer’s strong approach and what he was saying. Not interested? What were these weeks all about then? And how come she became so ‘dear’ to him so fast?

\- Yes, sure, you’re ‘just friends’, she’d mentioned it! Believe me, you aren’t the first ‘friend’ I’d seen doing circles around her with less than friendly intentions!

Omer sighted tiredly:

\- Again with that! Jealousy? I came to get your head straight and fix things with Sanem – not for your benefit, believe me – and you’re accusing me of trying to be with her? Is there any logic in that head of yours?

\- I don’t know what game you’re playing…

\- It’s not a game, you, stupid Neanderthal! I love Sanem, I want her to be happy, at the moment her happiness seems to be tied to your persona – hence, I’m here!

At this point they were both shouting, gesturing animatedly and attracting way too much attention if the size of the crowd outside Can’s office was anything to go by. But he didn’t give a damn about that, he had more pressing matters – like, for example, the idea to press this guy against the wall and throw a punch to his solar plexus. Just so he’d shut up!

\- Omer, you’re seriously asking for it, I don’t have that much patience! You say you came to help and then shout accusations at me! Get out, man!

\- I won’t! I promised Deniz I’ll help Sanem, so I have to at least try! Allah know, I didn’t want to, not with the deft guy like you!

Omer silenced abruptly and looked around, blinking, as if he just came into himself. He shook his head a bit and looked back at Can. Something in his eyes changed, something haunted creeped in, painful. Can thought back to the last words and asked:

\- Who’s Deniz? Your… girlfriend? You have a girlfriend?!

It could’ve been a sister, another friend – anyone, really. But something about the way Omer hid into himself told Can that it was more intimate than that. Like a beloved person.

Instead of answering, Omer set down again. He looked at Can for a very long time and then nodded – but not to Can, to himself. To Can he said:

\- No. Deniz is my boyfriend. He’d met Sanem many times over the last month, they’d become fast friends, she even comes to walk our dog together with him…

Can set down too. A myriad of thoughts ran through him like shooting stars… because that meant…

\- A boyfriend? Huh… so… you are...

\- Gay. Yes, very good, young padawan, you’re finally getting there…

\- And Sanem knows? Since the beginning?

\- Well, I didn’t tell her during our first meeting, no… but she’s my editor, she’d seen my soul written across the pages… and she…

Omer bowed his head and looked at his crossed fingers resting atop of the table. His voice was serene and tender… loving…

\- Sanem cares. And she supports me, and gives me courage, and inspires me too. And even if… in the end… the society will shunt me… if only people like Sanem will appreciate my work… then I’ll consider myself lucky!

Can smiled:

\- Yes, she is special…

Omer raised his head and his expression was surprisingly angry. He hissed:

\- She is, is she? You had her, held her heart in your hands, and you… didn’t just drop it, you threw it away! As if you didn’t need it! As if she was something you’d regretted!

Can raised his voice defensively:

\- Hey, I NEVER!

\- Don’t shout at me, you, idiot! I’m not passing a judgement here, I’m quoting! That’s what SHE’d told me! Do you know what it feels like to see the girl who is all colors of the rainbow become grey and lifeless! It was as if she was dying in front of me and I couldn’t do a thing!

Can’s eyes rounded and he managed to whisper:

\- She… what?

Omer exhaled and calmed down. Can noticed that Omer was much better at mastering his emotion than Can himself. Omer said:

\- You and I – we talk. And we figure out what went wrong and how to make it right. I’m known to be a very good listener, so start – we have about forty-five minutes left.

Can nodded, admitting his defeat. Seemed like this guy really did come to help and Can was in no condition to refuse help. The first question he had was:

\- Tell me about thunderstorms and why I should ‘count the running’?

 


	24. Chapter 24

_The very same time… Leyla’s office…_

\- Hi…

\- Hi…

Both were so shy, both didn’t know what to do with their hands, where to look… until their eyes locked on each other. And then nothing mattered – not that someone might see them through an open door or that flower pot was knocked over when Emre rushed by it on his way to Leyla… all of that was nothing… they were everything!

He kissed her fervently, with abandon – and Leyla responded in kind! Emre groaned into her mouth when he felt Leyla’s hands traveling up his torso and hovering on the edge of his collar, not yet brave enough to command that touch but playful enough to tease him about it. His skin prickled where her fingers would be if she were to close the distance and Emre tensed up at that phantom sensation. Leyla’s little whimpers and moans were an incentive enough to Emre to never stop – but he had to. There were still things to be said, to be figured out.

Emre made half a step back – far enough to breathe but not too far to release her waist. He bended his head and looked Leyla in the eyes, her beautiful deep-blue eyes, heavy-lidded and stormy with passion. She didn’t try to look away and Emre took it as a good sign that Leyla was getting comfortable to be with him… like this.

He asked:

\- How are you today, Leyla?

Leyla gave a little nod and smiled widely, her face lighting up with happiness:

\- I’m good. You?

Emre kissed the tip of her nose and watched her scrunch it – Leyla was very ticklish. He did it again and got almost serious frown from her – but only ‘almost’ because Leyla couldn’t keep herself from smiling. Emre answered:

\- I think I’m better than ‘good’! It’s not every day that I get to kiss the love of my life first thing in the morning! I’m amazing!

Leyla touched her fingertips to Emre’s lips, making his eyes roll back into his head a little. She traced the outline of his jaw, up to his temple, fanning out her fingers into his hair above the ear. Emre was motionless, mesmerized by Leyla’s exploration – it was if she was learning his features by touch and Emre was very much for it! When Leyla’s hands finished at Emre’s shoulders, she said:

\- Then I’m amazing too.

\- Yes, you are…

Leyla smacked Emre’s shoulder lovingly and pouted. Never in his life was Emre so struck with the beauty of the woman as right now, her very kissable lips taunting him for just a little taste, a nibble… but before he could succumb to the temptation, Leyla spoke and broke Emre’s trance:

\- You’re just saying that, Emre-bey…

Emre gritted his teeth involuntarily and made a conscious effort to relax his jaw. Leyla was still calling him the respective ‘bey’ and he knew it would take some time for her to trust their relationship to drop it… but it still felt like a protective mechanism on her side. Against him. He couldn’t do much but to talk her through it then…

\- Leyla, we need to talk to your parents.

She looked at him with surprise and fright kaleidoscoping in her eyes and whispered:

\- We? You want to talk to my parents?

Emre looked surprised as well – and a little taken aback. Didn’t she want him to?

\- Leyla, I believe we should do it properly this time. Which is why I intend to ask your parents’ permission to court you.

He nodded solemnly and Leyla chuckled on his serious tone and said:

\- I don’t think you should use that high-brow language with my parents… ‘To court’! I think, they’ll understand ‘dating’ better!

Emre raised an eyebrow and assessed Leyla’s face attentively. Her expression was warm and innocent – which meant Leyla had no idea what he was talking about and what her response meant. Emre took Leyla by the hand and led her to the chair behind the desk. Once she’d seated, he squatted before her and kissed both her hands. Emre tried to clear the context, as soft and as sincere as he could:

\- Leyla, they may understand dating better, but they’ll appreciate courting more. Dating means flowers and moonwalks and movies and romantic dinners. And I want all of it for us, much of it! But courting means ‘dating with intent to marry’… - Leyla twitched in her chair as a frightened deer and Emre held her down with his soft words, - and I want your parents to know that I’m very serious about us…

Leyla blinked few too many times and Emre smiled encouragingly – finally she spoke:

\- Are you..?

Emre shook his head:

\- No, I’m not proposing. Not yet. That’s not the place and not the time. I want you to know me – outside the office, outside being my assistant and covering up for my sins, outside of being disappointed in me… I want you to know me, the man who was born out of loving you. Then, and only then I will ask for your hand in marriage and pray to Allah that you answer ‘yes’…

Leyla tried saying something but Emre wasn’t finished:

\- I just want you to know – this courting period is only for your benefit. On my part, I have no doubt that you are the woman I want to be with for the rest of my life. You are the one I want to cherish and protect and love forever. I want to keep your body and your soul as tight as you hold mine. I want you to give me children – as beautiful and pure as you are. I want to be the best version of me I could be and hope that would be enough for you…

Leyla closed her eyes. Not to shield herself from him – even though it felt like his eyes were burning through her, they were so bright right now. But to savor this moment, to follow her mind as it stores this memory on a special shelf so that Leyla would always remember where to find this little perfect piece of happiness. She nodded and opened her eyes:

\- Then we do need to talk to my parents. But not today. Today I’ll tell them about break up with Osman… and maybe you can come for dinner tomorrow?

Leyla’s voice did that questioning-hopeful tilt in the end of the sentence and Emre nodded immediately and a bit too enthusiastically, making Leyla to jolt back in her seat. Emre chuckled:

\- Good thinking! Breaking your nose right now wouldn’t improve my chances with your parents!

Leyla raised one eyebrow and retorted sheepishly:

\- Hmmm… But you’re not worried about your chances with ME if you break my nose?

Emre reached up and kissed her nose, then her cheek and her lips – very lightly, just to erase that frown from her lovely features.

\- I’ll never take my chances with you for granted, Leyla. You are my second chance in everything, and it would be the one that holds!

_The next day…_

\- Leyla! What has happened? Your message…

Emre’s worried voice came to a halt when he’d circled the corner to Leyla’s office and saw her sitting in her chair, holding herself in her hands clasped tightly around her lean body and rocking a bit in her chair. Her eyes were puffy, gaze unblinking and unseeing. Startled by Emre’s approaching voice, Leyla looked up and bit her lip to stop it from trembling. Her eyes filled with tears, ready to erupt in waterfalls, as Emre dropped himself before her and whispered in a broken tone:

\- What is it, Leyla? Please, tell me!

Leyla nodded and sniffed. Her voice was small and lost, as she shared the story:

\- I’d told my parents about Osman. How we didn’t fit together, and I didn’t want to fool him further… How I had feelings for you, and I wanted to be true to those feelings…

\- And? They don’t want me to come tonight?

Emre assumed as much when he’d proposed it yesterday. Considering the stint his mother threw at Aydins few months back, and how they were of a very low opinion of Divit brothers, he wasn’t expecting a warm welcome.

Leyla sniffed again, and first teardrop rolled down her cheek. Emre took out a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to Leyla – she took it and started crying for real. Emre got lost at the experience – he never knew how to handle crying women, tried to avoid these situations at all cost. But this wasn’t ‘women’, this was Leyla. His Leyla.

Emre stroke her hair and cupped her wet face with both his hands, drying out few more tears. Leyla’s eyes were so clear like that, skies after the rain, simply beautiful!

\- Leyla, hayatim, you’re breaking my heart. Tell me what happened, and we’ll think how to fix it. I won’t let anything bad happen to you, I promise!

Leyla tiny voice combined with sobbing was the most miserable sound:

\- We didn’t get to the invitation part… My mom said she’s disappointed in me, that she didn’t think I could be so irresponsible and hurt Osman so much… and that there’s no way she’ll let me bring a next man to her home so soon after bringing so much shame to the family. I’m a bad persoooooooon…

The last part came out as wailing and Leyla hid her face in her palms. Emre rose up to nurse her head on his chest, while he hugged her trembling shoulders. He was right that he wasn’t Leyla’s parents’ first choice for their daughter’s suitor. But this…

\- Shhh, Leyla, it will be alright. I will fix it!

Leyla’s voice, muffled by his tight embrace, brought up a question:

\- How?

Emre may not have had a plan, but his beloved was crying in his arms and his conviction was enough to move mountains! He will convince Aydins somehow, Allah is his witness!

\- I don’t know, Leyla. Yet. Give me until evening and don’t worry about anything!

_That same day… evening… Aydin house…_

One hour ago, Emre looked back to numerous business negotiations he’d had in his life, shady characters he had to deal with, money sharks he had to fight off – and convinced himself he was ready for this conversation.

One hour after that, now, he’d found himself thoroughly unprepared for it. Emre felt like he was fainting and being hyper-alert at the same time, fidgeting nervously on the low couch that didn’t seem to be fit for humans of normal size – Emre certainly didn’t feel comfortable in this piece of furniture. On the other hand, Emre was fairly certain that it was the state intended for him by Nihat and Mevkibe, as they were the ones who’d seated him there, landing opposite him on two chairs, making Emre alternate his position every time he spoke to one or the other.

After initial greetings – very cold ones – were over, Emre went straight to the point, addressing Leyla’s father:

\- Nihat-bey, I came to formally ask your permission to court your daughter. I want to assure you…

Nihat interrupted him without ceremonies:

\- You can’t have it. What about that?

Emre gulped and dug his heels for a long talk…

\- As I mentioned, I came to ask for ‘formal’ permission, because I do believe that Leyla has her own mind – which I have been privileged to witness over the past few years – and her own agency on this matter. And as she wants to be with me, hers is the only opinion that REALLY, - Emre stressed the word, - matters to me.

Nihat grimaced and look away – Mevkibe pinched in instead:

\- So why are you here, then? All-so-independent Leyla gave you all the permissions you need, right? Ruined her engagement, our good name is the laugh of the neighborhood – and you come here as if nothing of that matters, only your ‘agency’ matters!

Emre’s nostrils flared up at this dismissal of Leyla’s opinion and mention of her ‘disgrace’ but he had to keep calm for her sake too.

\- Mevkibe-hanim, Leyla has not issued me any promises, nor had I asked for any before I could speak to you. I, however, did promise her that I consider this courting to be leading up to marriage when and if she’s ready for it. As of her good name – Leyla is one of the most decent and dignified people I know, and I don’t think that anything has changed since her break-up with Osman.

Mevkibe huffed and leaned in, gesticulating animatedly:

\- Poor Osman! What was his fault in all of this? Is it some rich people’s game – to steal brides from us, simple folk?

Emre’s jaw clenched at the accusation but he still managed to strain few words:

\- It was never anyone’s intention to hurt anybody. And I believe that Leyla and Osman came to this decision together, for their both sakes.

Mevkibe wasn’t silenced that easily:

\- How is it for her sake?! She’ll be hailed as some shallow girl who can’t hold a fiancée!

Emre shot up to his feet and for a moment there it seemed like he was about to scream as he inhaled deeply – and then exhales slowly. Emre was towering over Aydins who looked at him from below with incredulous expressions. Mevkibe and Nihat exchanged looks that read ‘did that boy really jumped up on us just now?’ and before Mevkibe could say something about it, Emre set back and said as calmly as he could:

\- I’d already told Leyla that I plan to ask her hand in marriage. Not now and not before she’d be ready to say ‘yes’. But there is nothing shallow about the amazing and genuine woman that I love, and she can have as many fiancées as she wants – but I hope she’ll choose me!

Nihat raised his eyebrows and clarified:

\- So, did you come to ask my permission to date Leyla or marry her?

Mevkibe added:

\- That’s ridiculous! She can’t jump from one engagement to another!

Emre nodded:

\- Again, I’m not proposing right now, I want Leyla to get to know me, to get to know us, to choose us.

Nihat stood up and Emre mirrored his action. They looked at each other for a long time and even though Nihat was shorter, Emre still felt like Leyla’s father was looking down on him. Something battled in Nihat’s eyes – hope and fear and many questions in between. Finally, Nihat voiced the most important one:

\- And what if she doesn’t choose you? Will you walk away or continue to hunt her?

Emre didn’t even blink, his answer came momentarily and without a second thought:

\- I’ll walk away. If Leyla tells me to go, I will.

Mevkibe stood up beside her husband and asked:

\- Promise me?

Emre turned to Mevkibe and nodded:

\- I promise.

Mevkibe smiled:

\- Ok, then, child. Do you want some coffee?

 

_P.S. Sorry, guys, real life took precedent, been traveling for almost a month now... Back home, will try to do some writing more regularly =)_


	25. Chapter 25

_Two days from then... Divit house..._

Can placed a cup of coffee at the low table near the lounge chair that Emre currently was laying on. Can himself landed on the other chair with a glass of tea and for few minutes brother were content to just be silent, overlooking the way sun shimmered on the water surface in the pool. Can said thoughtfully:

\- I think it's time to invite everybody to work here again. I don't want to go to the office so much!

\- Does it have anything to do with the fact that Sanem is in that office?

Can shrugged and nodded:

\- Yeah, it does. It gets on my nerves to see her running around downstairs, too busy to talk to me! She has time for everybody, literally! But me!

\- Entitled much, brother?

Emre chuckled – for the past two days Can's mood was extremely sour, which wasn't explained by him properly. Initially, Emre thought it to be jealousy towards Omer, but Can explained that he and Omer talked it out and the author was actually 'a great guy'... so Emre was at loss as to why Can and Sanem couldn't finally sort out their issues.

Can showed Emre almost knocking him off the chair, Emre yelled in pretend anger:

\- Hey there! Easier on the wounded!

Can scoffed and threw another playful punch which Emre blocked with easy. Can nodded towards Emre's leg:

\- You sprained your ankle, I wouldn't call it 'wounded'...

Emre gasped – at least, his pride was definitely wounded! He retorted:

\- I'll have you know, it's not a sprain, it's a torn ligament, here's what this is for, - Emre knocked on the cast covering his ankle and sheen, - and I would go to the office gladly, but my stupid boss forbade me!

\- Your stupid boss is trying to take care of you! I'd told you not to go against Ali, didn't I? But noooo, Emre Divit stops for no one!

\- I scored, right?

\- You scored one measly goal in the game we were already winning! And now you're out of commission for ten days! How does that add up to a win?

Emre crossed his hands before his face defensively:

\- Hey, hey! Ok, I got it, should've been more careful! But it was quite a game, wasn't it?!

Can sighted – sometimes his brother was so much not like his usual collected self, sometimes he was this free-spirited and a bit wild creature. Glimpses like this told Can they are not that different after all – and he hoped they would be able to grow closer to each other thanks to similarities they'd already uncovered. Like their love for fast cars and horse-riding and football... and their overall aversion to anything medical. That reminded Can... He stood up and went to the house, coming back in few minutes. While he was gone, Emre returned to the laptop balanced on his lap, studying some spreadsheet with numbers upon numbers. Can passed two little white pills to Emre, drawing his attention away from the screen:

\- Here, take your pills.

Emre turned away like a petulant child, so Can nudged him and added a frown for effect.

\- Emre, take it! It's for the inflammation!

\- These things make me sleepy and I still got some work to do, quarterly budgets won't wait two weeks for my ligaments!

\- These things make you heal faster! Don't you want to get back to the office faster?

Emre looked up at him in surprise and smiled lazily:

\- Why would I? I can work from the lounge chair and my lumberjack nurse brings me refreshments – I have everything I need here!

Can heaved with indignation and tried to smack Emre. That little brat! But Can knew his brother's biggest weakness:

\- And Leyla? She's back where? In the ooooffffiiiicccceeee...

Can dragged the last word, enjoying how colors changed on Emre's face – yeah, mention of Leyla hit the nerve. They'd just gotten together and that smooth-talking devil even managed to get her parents' permission – and now this! Maybe, Can went just a little bit overboard with gloating... Especially, considering that he himself was very much in the dog house with Sanem...

Can tried changing the subject:

\- Ok, I'm hungry! Do you want some pizza?

\- Whatever...

Emre's good mood was dissipating so it was definitely time for some mood – that'll cheer him up! Can took out his phone but before he could hit dial, the doorbell rang. Brothers exchanged glances – they weren't expecting anyone today. Emre made an assumption:

\- Maybe, it's the hospital? They did say they'd send someone to check on me...

Can nodded:

\- Yes, that must be the nurse. I'll go open the door and you drink you damn pills or I'll tell on you!

Emre didn't move a muscle – instead he raise an eyebrow and nodded towards the pills on the table, challenging his older brother! Can shook his head and went to open the door. Emre returned to his work, mixing up his earlier childish behavior with adult responsibilities of CFO.

...

_One minute later..._

\- And I'm telling you, he doesn't take his pills! Talk to him, please!

Emre smiled not raising his head – if Can thought that some random nurse would be able to convince him where his own brother failed, then he was gravely mistaken! He was about to say something to that accord when a familiar voice broke through his concentration:

\- For me, Emre-bey?

Emre's head shot up from the screen and he rose immediately, making his way to Leyla standing beside Can. His speed was impressing, considering his injury, but Can expected nothing less – his brother was fueled by something that worked better than pills.

When Emre closed his fingers around Leyla's wrists, he'd noticed she was holding some rather heavy bag. He looked at her with question in his eyes and Leyla responded:

\- Mother brought me lunch... I figured I can come visit you and share... But I don't know if you like kuru fasülye...

Can laughed:

\- Emre? Home-made food? Oh, Leyla...

Emre interrupted him, metal in his voice:

\- Can, stop it!

He turned to face Leyla and his voice became soft and gentle:

\- Whatever that is, it's my new favorite food now. Thank you, Leyla.

Can offered to take her bag but Emre did it first and placed the bag on the garden table. Can stepped back – his brother was getting territorial, it was well-known – and irrational – behavior among Divit men. Can said:

\- Thank you, Leyla, we were about to order pizza and you'd saved us...

\- Me. She'd saved me, as you are still going for pizza. On your way to the office. Remember, you were eager to get back to the office?

Emre's face was all innocence but it fooled no one – Can threw him a death glare and Leyla looked away hiding her smiling face from them. Can looked at the bag and sighted, his murmuring stomach annoying him immensely. He turned away to leave and gave one last command:

\- Leyla, make sure he takes his pills and doesn't work too much! Emre, Allah be with you!

Leyla nodded:

\- Sure thing, Can-bey, I'll take care of him!

...

_One minute later..._

Once the door behind Can close shut, Emre broke the silence:

\- How are you today, Leyla?

\- I'm good, thank you. And you?

\- Umm...

Emre looked down and gestured to his cast, reminding Leyla of his disposition. She gasped and covered her mouth, her face a picture of compassion and guilt mixed together. Leyla nodded:

\- Yes, I knew that, I should've remembered. I practically made you to go to that game and it's all my fault now!

Emre chuckled and took Leyla by her shoulders to stop her from fidgeting.

\- Leyla, you didn't 'make' me to do anything, I'm a big boy now. And you were probably right – I needed to spend some time with Can and I did.

Leyla smiled at that mention – she was the one convincing Emre to 'continue with his life the way it was supposed to be' and not to make too many adjustments for her.

Emre continued:

\- And I don't see how it was any of your fault because you weren't at that field and you definitely weren't throwing me against that railing!

Leyla bit her lip as if experiencing Emre's pain herself and he decided to roll back on the gory details. Changing the tune was the best option and he went with the most obvious:

\- So, the lunch?

\- Yes! Sure!

Leyla ran to the house and came back with plates and utensils. She than served them some dish out of her thermos box – upon tasting it, Emre was surprised to discover he actually liked it!

\- Tell Mevkive-hanim that it's very good! It may very well become my favorite dish for real!

Leyla smiled at Emre's genuine enthusiasm – he wasn't the first one to be won over by her mom's cooking! Leyla suggested:

\- In this case, I'll leave the rest in the fridge, you can treat Can-bey later.

Emre was still chowing with full mouth but still tried to respond:

\- No way! He has to fend for himself!

Leyla shook her head disapprovingly and murmured – still audible enough for Emre to hear:

\- Boys...

But on more vocal note Leyla said, while nodding towards the lounge chair with laptop on it:

\- How are those budgets coming along?

Emre drank some juice to push down his bite and coughed – Leyla patted him on the back, too soft to be of any assistance, but Emre still appreciated the effort. When his coughing subsided, he asked:

\- How did you know I was doing budgets?

Leyla shrugged and stood up to collect empty plates. He response was simple:

\- It's the time we were usually doing budgets for the third quarter, and it's the only task that has ever gotten you in that state of concentration I saw when I came in. So – how is it going?

Emre gritted his teeth and threw an angry look at the laptop abandoned by the pool. He complained:

\- It doesn't! There's some mistake in the forecasts and I can't find it and the whole model just goes into disarray when I try to compute it!

\- Can I see?

\- Sure, yeah... Wait!

Emre squinted and assessed Leyla's face carefully. He took Leyla's small delicate hands in his big ones and squeezed them a little bit. His voice was hushed but very firm when Emre said:

\- Leyla, I do want your help, but only because you have this amazing hunch for numbers and financial forecasts. Not because you were my assistant once and probably know that model back and forth. I don't want you to feel like you HAVE to do it!

Leyla squeezed back reassuringly:

\- Oh, I know! It's just... the sooner you're done with those budgets, the sooner we can...

Leyla suddenly blushed – which was a very beautiful color on her – and looked away. Emre took her chin and turned it back to him, asking in a hoarse voice:

\- We can... what, Leyla?

She blinked... bit her lip... looked him in the eyes... looked at his mouth... blinked again... licked her lips... looked back up... Her eyes became comically big and frightened, as if she was caught with her hand in a cookie jar. Emre would've probably laughed at this adorable case of awakening – if it wasn't Leyla... and if her darkening eyes, and exquisite lips, and telling blush weren't giving him tightness in all the right places. Or all the wrong places, considering they were planning to work on budgets just minute ago! Emre felt it best to clarify if it was still their plan...

\- We can do whatever you like, Leyla...

Leyla swallowed hard and focused at Emre's eyes again, snatching her thought away from the memory of his lips on hers, on her neck, her shoulder... Leyla! Take a grip of yourself!

\- I think we should finish the budgets... first. Then we can... just be... together.

Emre bowed chivalrously:

\- As you wish, my lady. I'll go, take the laptop. Can you get me some water, please? I still need to take those damn pills!

...

_An hour later..._

\- No, Emre, see – that's where this number goes! This way you forecast based on weighted average and not on arithmetic average!

Leyla commented everything she was doing while tuning the spreadsheet and Emre tried to listen very much. And failed miserably at that. First, because Leyla didn't actually speak at audience-friendly speed and half of what she was saying was too specific to the financial model at hand – the one she'd designed before – and Emre didn't know all the details yet. But also, because he was fundamentally distracted by the way her animated face lit up with every little victory, the way sunlight highlighted strands of her hair, the way she pressed her lips tight when she'd concentrated... she was beautiful, his Leyla. And utterly impossible to work with for that exact reason!

Luckily for Emre, Leyla got so engaged with the problem, she was doing all the work by herself, at some point even slapping Emre's hands away from the laptop because he could 'mess with the formulas'!

Sometime later they were done, or rather, Leyla was done, closing the laptop with satisfied smile and reporting:

\- Here, Emre-bey, all done! Now you should rest and don't worry about a thing!

Emre frowned – for the extent of their brain-storming bug-fixing session Leyla was so engrossed with the numbers, she forgot to call him 'bey' all this time. And now she'd remembered to put on the defense again. But it was okay for now, at least, Emre knew that beneath that calm and collected façade Leyla trusts him more than she wishes to let on... for now. He'll wait!

Now, back to present! What kind of resting were they discussing? Emre touched his knuckles to Leyla's wrist and followed it up to her shoulder and down again. Emre brought her hand closer, and planted a kiss onto Leyla's open palm... soft on the insides of her fingers... teasing bite over the pad... letting his tongue circle over Leyla's thumb and suck it just a little bit...

Leyla couldn't take her eyes of his, shining emerald greens hypnotizing her, immobilizing her, calling her to do something... it was getting just so warm here...

Leyla crossed her legs and leaned in – and that was all the invitation Emre needed. He stood up and almost yanked Leyla to her feet, pressing into her body for heat – and for support too. Stupid cast! If it weren't for this damn tare in his ankle, he could've lifted her and set her atop of the table, and stand between her legs and...

\- Emre, canim! What has happened to you?!

Of all the voices in the world! Why her? Why NOW? But most importantly – why HER?!

Ice shower wouldn't be as effective as that voice approaching from behind, Leyla's mouth forming perfect 'O' and eyes filling with horror and fighting to free herself from his embrace. All the while the voice kept lamenting on how 'she couldn't leave him for a moment' and how 'everything is going to be all right now'. Emre rolled his eyes and stretched his neck reflectively. Repeating in his mind that he actually loves this loud, obnoxious and meddling woman, Emre turned around and said with the smile:

\- Welcome home, mother!

 

P.S. Hi, guys! You know what  _'the imposter syndrome'_  is? That's _'a collection of feelings of inadequacy that persist despite evident success'_. That's what happened to me - I got a job that I was working for the last 10+ years to get, kind of job that is a success in itself but can lead to a very significant and legacy-defining successes in the future - and I was stuck by the hard case of 'what am I doing here? any minute now they'll figure out they'd made a mistake and fire my sorry ass!' and other pessimistic thoughts like that. As you can imagine, having that type of negative reinforcement in my head was not at all productive for my creative side =(

Luckily, I'm still not fired and I've come to realize that I can actually do it, and contribute, and carry the load (which is some significant load, let me tell you!). Ergo, I'm back to writing =)

 


	26. Chapter 26

_At Divit's house..._

Huma danced her way to Emre and Leyla who – to Emre's disappointment – stepped away for a respectable distance. Huma kissed both on the cheeks and faced Emre, effectively turning her back to Leyla. He cooed:

\- My poor boy, who did this to you?

Emre shrugged, looking directly at Leyla, pleading with his eyes to forgive his mother's rudeness. Huma started straightening folds of Emre's shirt and he gently led her hands away from himself and finally answered:

\- Mom, I'm fine, doctor's say I'll be out of the cast in 10 days with no permanent damage. It's been a football game, Can and I won.

Huma clapped animatedly:

\- Of course, you did, my athletic boys! There are no two ways about it!

Emre contradicted his mother softly:

\- Actually, we lost two games before that... let's just say, this time I was very much inspired to win!

Emre winked at Leyla and suggested:

\- If inspired so more often, I can achieve some good results!

Leyla blushed profusely remembering the night before that football game and what kind of 'inspiration' Emre may have been talking about. Emre smiled wider realizing that Leyla thinks he's referring to them kissing... while he meant to have been inspired by her coming back to his life... He should clarify, right? But... but rosy was such a good color on her! Emre raised an eyebrow suggestively and Leyla bowed her head to escape his burning gaze... His mother was present, Allah-Allah, what was he doing?! That man!

Huma payed no attention to this silent exchange and brought her own meaning to the 'inspiration' subject:

\- Oh, wait for the news I'd brought, you'll be inspired to no end!

Emre asked – mostly to be polite, no news could possibly interest him more than Leyla at this very moment...

\- What news, mother?

Either Huma was tone-deaf, or she didn't care if his interest was genuine, so she'd just announced in dramatic voice:

\- Very big news for Fikri Harika, the biggest news so far! Wait till Can comes home and I'll tell you all about it!

Suddenly, Huma turned around and finally noticed Leyla who was doing her best to become invisible. Huma smiled condescendingly and asked:

\- Oh, sweety, you're still here... So nice of you to check on Emre, but I'm here now so you can leave.

Leyla opened her mouth to say something – and closed it again. Emre, on the other hand, wasn't that easy to silence.

\- Leyla, please, stay!

Huma looked surprised at his contradiction and took a different approach:

\- Oh, no, Emre, she absolutely must leave! Commercial secrets and all that. I'm sure, you understand, dear?

The last semi-question semi-request was addressed to Leyla who nodded moved past them to the table, to collect her thermos box. Huma followed her actions with some interest and commented:

\- Oh, so you'd brought Emre something?

Leyla nodded shyly:

\- Yes, my mom made...

She didn't even have time to finish the sentence, when Huma's face contracted with visible disgust and she almost screamed at Leyla:

\- Thank you, child, but you can take all of it away now! My son was raised to have better taste than, - Huma paused for effect and measured Leyla with her eyes, - common food. I'll take care of him now, you should leave!

It wasn't just about the food, they all understood that. But Leyla didn't know if she could handle this conversation right now, without crying. So she took her bag, her purse – and bolted for the door. She should've said good-buy to Emre who was calling to her... maybe she should've even stayed and stand her ground... but she couldn't. Not today.

...

_One minute later..._

He tried running after her, but with the cast it was futile – Leyla was one before he reached the door. Emre came back to his chair and picked up the phone to call Leyla. Leyla picked up immediately.

\- Leyla, hayatim, are you all right? You ran away so quick, I just didn't have a chance to...

\- It's okay, Emre-bey, I had to go anyways, need to go back to office and finish few things today.

\- But, Leyla...

\- I'm fine, honestly, Emre-bey! Spend time with your mother, she must've missed you a lot!

Emre looked around to notice his mother eyeing him with almost scientific curiosity, like he was some newly discovered specie Huma didn't know how to handle. Also, she made no attempt to pretend she wasn't listening on his conversation – she absolutely was! Good! She had to find out one way or the other, might as well be like this!

\- I love you, Leyla. See you later!

\- Bye, Emre-bey! See you!

Emre looked his mother straight in the eyes and the crackle of challenge was audible in the air! Huma was about to say something and Emre braced for the impact – when Can's voice reverberated through the house:

\- I'm home! What's the summon is about?

Saved by the bell, they say. Emre wondered, which one of them was saved just now – him or his mother?

...

Huma waited for Emre and Can to sit down before she announced her big news:

\- Darlings! When I was in Italy, I'd met Ceyda, we got to talking – long story short, her company will be releasing new line of sports equipment and she want Fikri Harika to design their European advertisement campaign! And the best part – I will oversee the entire thing!

She clapped her hands happily and waited for her sons to join in. Can and Emre clapped too, but automatically, still trying to stomach the news... not only their mother was back for an extended period of time... but she'd also landed a huge contract for them...

Emre and Can looked at each other and started discussing in hushed voices:

\- Can, you think we can handle it – artistically speaking? What would you need?

\- Writers I have enough of, I do need translation team...

\- We'll outsource it, I don't have the budget for in house... what else?

\- I'll need money for social research data, consumption reviews...

\- Ok, how much?

Huma interjected:

\- Boys, boys! Aren't you forgetting something? I'm in charge here, that was Ceyda's condition!

Can's shoulders slouched tiredly, and he reclined in his chair properly and took a sip of hot tea he'd made for himself earlier. He tried his best not to sound mockingly when he'd asked:

\- Sure, mother, what is YOUR plan for continent-wide campaign? It's not like we've ever done it before and have a plan, it's not like you'd asked us if we even have enough resources to pull something like this off... you'd just dropped this 'great news' on us and now you want to play boss? Go ahead, your humble servants await!

Emre touched his brother's shoulder and waved his head – can was going too far and by his remorseful face Emre could see that can already regretted his words. Can tried retracting some of it:

\- Mom, I know you tried to do what's best... but I'm just not sure if we can handle it and I don't want to disappoint...

Can didn't say the last word but it hung in the air so that everyone could read it. 'Dad'. 'Don't want to disappoint dad'.

Huma boiled up immediately:

\- It's always about your dad, isn't it? He left you and dropped off the face of Earth – and you still talk of him as if Aziz is around the corner and you should bow to his glory! And what am I? Inconvenient house guest?

Emre stood up and hugged her shoulders. He knew for the fact that at least half of this hysteric was theatrical – no matter how hard she'd tried, Huma couldn't shed a tear and was bringing her handkerchief to dry eyes – but he didn't feel comfortable calling his mother out on this and just played along. Emre said in soothing voice:

\- Come now, mom, Can didn't mean it like that. Of course, we don't want to shame you... You'd just brought us our biggest contract yet and we are a little bit... startled. Give us time to get our bearings and we'll start to plan for the campaign, okay?

Huma nodded in acknowledgement of Emre's soft plea and responded with regal mercy:

\- Sure, son, as you say. I'll go unpack my things and you, boys, can talk. We'll discuss our plan over dinner.

Huma walked away and Emre dropped at the chair next to Can. Can waved his glass offering Emre something to drink but Emre shook his head 'no'. Can shrugged and stood up:

\- Suit yourself. I need something stronger!

_When Can came back with a glass of 'something stronger'..._

Can set heavily at the chair and placed his glass on the ground beside the chair. Something like headache began to form around his temples and he tried massaging them to ease the pain. Emre saw him do that, closed his laptop and put it aside, and offered:

\- I can get you a pill.

Can almost snarled:

\- Get me a hammer and we can talk!

Emre took back but his response was filled with sympathy:

\- Hey, big brother, no need to bite my head off just yet! You may actually need me on this one... I did some preliminary calculations, and if we move...

Can groaned and fell back on the recliner, covering his eyes with bent arm.

\- No, Emre, please, no work talk! Not now! I just came back from a meeting hoping for some relaxing time and then mother comes and drops this bomb on us and I just...

\- ...Overwhelmed? Yeah, mom knows how to do that!

Can peaked from under his elbow and looked at Emre carefully – something in his brother's voice spiked some long-forgotten question. He set back up and asked:

\- Is she always like that?

\- What? Controlling, dramatic, hysterical and high-maintenance? Yeah, pretty much since I can remember!

Emre sounded nonchalant but there was some strain to his voice, like he was trying to smile a little bit too much. Can asked the next question:

\- Then how... how did you do it?

\- Do what?

\- Lived with her...

\- Oh, that...

Emre looked away so Can wouldn't see how he pressed his lips shut tight. But Can saw. His younger brother didn't want to discuss this subject – that Can knew already. But was it because of hurt or resentment – that Can needed to find out. He pleaded softly:

\- Emre, please. I need to know.

Emre turned around, his expression full of guarded curiosity:

\- Need to know what exactly?

Can knew he needed to share this with Emre if he wanted him to share in return. He inhaled deeply and went for it:

\- Ever since I'd found out... about mom and dad... why she left... I keep asking myself – would it be different if I knew she didn't run away from me? If I didn't resent her all these years – would we be different? Mom and I? You and I? Would we be more of a... family?

Emre tilted his head one way... then the other... as if he was trying to find an angle to look at Can... angle that would help him answer. Maybe there was no right angle in this...

\- Can, to be honest... a year ago I would say 'yes' to all of these questions. I would say it was all your fault, and father's too. That we got separated, that I always felt competing with you and never winning when father's opinion was concerned because you both hated mother so much...

\- I never...

\- No, Can, you asked – let me answer!

Can hushed and Emre continued:

\- Mom... wasn't always like this. She is controlling, and she likes to direct people's lives to fit her definition of 'perfect'... but she wasn't always this cynical and bitter. That came later in life. Was it because she couldn't build a relationship with you? Maybe... I don't know...

\- So, you're saying...

\- No, Can, I'm not saying it was your fault. I don't think like that... anymore. You were a child, like I was. It wasn't our job to fix their lives and stitch together our family. Our parents were adults and they were supposed to figure out how to be our parents even without being married to each other!

Emre's voice broke and words came out strangled to the verge of crying... but tears dried out many years ago. He didn't want to continue but couldn't stop either – some inner dam that was holding up his discarded childhood dreams fell apart and emotions came flooding his soul with pain and guilt. Can tried hugging him but Emre pushed Can away and screamed:

\- Don't, Can! Just... don't! I... you don't know anything... I don't... deserve it...

His voice dropped low now, a whisper:

\- I hated you because I wanted to BE you. Someone mother would want, father would be proud of... creative, successful, free-spirited...

Emre raised his head, eyes full of tears, still not shedding a single one. His questions sounded like an accusation now:

\- Did you know I tried destroying you? Your business, your career as a photographer, your name even? More than once! Did you even notice? No! Because you're you! You can just shrug it off and continue as if nothing ever happened! How do you do that and why can't I be like that?

\- Emre, why are you...

\- Because you have to know, Can. I don't know if you can build a relationship with mother and how to do it... but I know you and I can't build one on the foundation of everything I did to you. No amount of football games will erase the fact that I'm NOT a good brother! Never was and don't know if I can be!

Can grabbed Emre's shoulder and fought him when Emre tried to shrug him off. Can pushed him to sit and commanded:

\- Emre, stop it! I don't know what's gotten into you but I...

\- I was the one who got your photography license revoked. I made sure you fought with Metin and abandoned life-long friendship with him. I got Aylin back to the agency while she was spying for Fabri. I made it so that...

Can froze and released Emre's shoulder. Emre could see how Can's thoughts were speeding through his mind, reminding of every betrayal on Emre's part. Fully aware of what effect he was going for, Emre went self-destructive:

\- What, brother? Still want to bond? Build a little family between us?

Can stood up abruptly making Emre lose his balance and step back. Can was choking on his breath, but he did manage to answer:

\- Yes. I do.

Emre's next words – whatever they were – stuck in his throat and new ones fought their way to the surface:

\- But... why? I'm not... worthy...

Can was getting angry now, grabbing his brother by the shoulders and shaking him in short bursts.

\- Emre! Shut! Up! What does all of it matter now? You did bad, boo-hoo! Do better next time! I know for a fact that you are hella smart and loyal to people you love! Sure thing, sometimes you fuck up and love the wrong people, but that's besides the point!

Emre gulped and cleared his throat. What was happening? Why isn't he thrown out of the house right now?

\- Can, I... you...

\- Yeah, Emre! Me and you! We are brothers and no matter how much we fight with each other, we'll fight twice as hard FOR each other!

Can let go of Emre and walked around the recliner almost full circle, arms on hips, head bent down – then circled back. He did that sometimes, when he was too emotional or too angry to talk – he walked it off. Having cleared some of his senses, Can said in calmer, more profound voice:

\- I'd lost enough time being alone and resentful – towards you, towards mom, towards the entire world... I'm tired of it... Aren't you?

Emre was lost for words so he'd just nodded. Can stepped forward and hugged him tight to his body, patting Emre's back when he'd felt his brother sobbing into his shoulder. Emre gripped Can's shirt and tried to pull him away but Can didn't let go.

\- Shhh, Emre, it's okay. You're okay. We're okay. I love you. You're my little brother and I'll always be there for you. No matter what you did. I will always love you.

And just like that... Emre was five again. And he was standing over the bicycle that neighboring boys took from him and Can fought them all to get it back. And Can, torn t-short and bloody lip, was hugging him tight and saying 'Everything is going to be okay. I'm here, right? I'll always be here for you!'.

And right at this moment everything was right in the world. And twenty years of being alone was gone. They had each other now.

 


End file.
